


Your Heart Ain't Cold (Cause It Burns)

by umisabaku



Series: Designation: Miracle [12]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Aromantic, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Bisexual Character, Gen, Gun Violence, Human Experimentation, M/M, Original Character(s), Road Trips, Superpowers, generator rex is thrown in here randomly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 47,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umisabaku/pseuds/umisabaku
Summary: In which Mayuzumi Chihiro reluctantly gets a job at Akashi Industries, flies to America, meets Nijimura Shuuzou and Kiyoshi Teppei, road trips to uncover the secrets of a super secret breeding cult, and questions his life choices the entire time."That Nijimura Story" of the Designation: Miracle series.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story only has five chapters! So the amount of chapters you see is very misleading. After the first chapter, there will be a short interlude accompanying each chapter I post (so it will look like two chapters are being posted at once) and then an epilogue after the fifth chapter. It is completely finished! I will post a new chapter (plus a short interlude) every Saturday so (barring some unforeseen circumstance) it should all be posted by August 19.  
>   
> It has some *very* long and important notes that will be in the end section. Please read those notes! Because there are some things you should know about this very strange story.  
>   
> It is set in the Designation: Miracle universe, and knowledge of that universe is necessary for the reading of this fic. Also, if you have not read "We're Never Coming Back (to Your Filthy Halls)" a looooooot of this story is not going to make any sense.  
>   
> And hahaha, yes, I used a variant of this title once already for a short fic but it was super appropriate for this story so I used it again! It comes from "And We Run" by Within Temptation ft. Xzibit.  
>   
> Betaed by the secret beta fish, all remaining mistakes are my own =D

Mayuzumi Chihiro steps off the plane feeling tired, cranky, and vaguely homicidal. He is very much regretting every life event that has led up to this moment. He blinks at his first sight of Los Angeles and decides right then and there that he’s going to hate everything about this country.

“Mr. Mayuzumi?”

Mayuzumi looks at the speaker with the bleary hostility of someone who has just been on a plane for ten hours and didn’t get any sleep. He sees two blonde men in suits waiting for him at the airstrip.

“You’re Chihiro Mayuzumi?” one of the men repeats.

“Yes, that’s right,” Mayuzumi replies in English.

“Ryder Kade Stevens. This is my partner, Vincent Gallagher. We’re here to escort you to your hotel.”

“Thanks,” Mayuzumi says after shaking their hands. He reminds himself that it’s not their fault he’s here, so he probably shouldn’t snipe at them for existing.

“Unless you’d rather go straight to the facility?” Vincent queries.

“Nope. Hotel’s good.” If he has to go to work right now, he might actually kill someone.

If the two men are surprised by his lack of work-ethic, they’re too polite to say.

*

“Aren’t you a little young to be an Executive Associate?” Vincent finally asks when they’re in the limo.

“You can’t be that much older than me,” Mayuzumi says from the back seat.

“ _I’m_ not an Executive Associate. Stevens? Are _you_ an Executive Associate?”

“Nope, I’m a professional henchman,” Ryder says cheerfully. Ryder is driving the limo, and both men are wearing shoulder holsters. Mayuzumi has been working at this company long enough to know that none of the employees are what they seem at first glance.

“Please,” he says. “You’re both Jacks. I imagine you’re both infinitely more educated and talented than I am.”

“And yet you make the big bucks,” Stevens says, shaking his head, as if in shame. “So what are you? Boy genius? Secret Ninja?”

“High school graduate,” Mayuzumi tosses out with a grin.   

“So, genius?” Ryder says.

“No, supremely average grades.”

“Then, martial arts?” Vincent’s eyes flick over Mayuzumi, skeptical.

“Decidedly not. I am a very normal human with no skills whatsoever and exceptionally little ambition.” Mayuzumi thinks about having this bio printed on his business cards. It would save a lot of time.

“If you don’t want to tell us, you don’t have to,” Ryder says, rolling his eyes.

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“The Boss doesn’t hire normal people,” Vincent says, his voice clipped. “And you don’t get to be one of Masaomi Akashi’s right hand men by being average. If you’re so normal, how’d you even get this job?”

“Nepotism, mostly,” Mayuzumi says. “And a little bit of schadenfreude.”

*

This was all Akashi Seijuurou’s fault. In retrospect, if Mayuzumi had known what trouble his basketball hobby was going to bring to his life, he’d go back in time and punch his fourteen-year-old self in the face before he could ever pick up a ball.

He’d known from the start that the university lifestyle wasn’t for him. His plan out of high school was to get a job—something that had set hours and didn’t require a lot of effort. It didn’t have to pay well, just enough to pay for a one room apartment and have enough left over for groceries and books.

All he really wanted was a quiet, simple life. Go to work, come home, read, rest, do it all over again the next day. And it was looking like he was well on his way to establishing a very comfortable lifestyle.

And then Akashi happened.

*

“Mayuzumi-san, this will never do.”

Mayuzumi forced a smile. “Does Customer-san wish to place an order? If not, Customer-san will have to stop blocking the line.”

“I will have a number two,” Akashi said, with the barest curl to his lips. “Mayuzumi-san, this is very distressing. There are better jobs—”

“Would Customer-san like to upgrade to a large?” Mayuzumi said.

“Mayuzumi-san,” Akashi said, his voice beginning to take on that hint of imperious command Mayuzumi remembered so well from his basketball days. “I had been under the impression that you were going to college.”

“Yes, you _did_ have that assumption, and it was hilarious. I do love it when you’re wrong. Customer-san. Please make room for the others in line.”

Akashi’s eye almost twitched. “You don’t need to work here.”

Mayuzumi huffed and finally dropped his service persona. “I _like_ working here.” He’d grown complacent with the thought that Akashi would never find out he was working at a Maji Burger, because Akashi would never, ever step inside a Maji Burger.

What he’d forgotten was that Nebuya _would_ go to a Maji Burger, and frequently, and that the Uncrowned King was a dirty snitch who told Akashi everything.

“This is a waste of your talents,” Akashi said.

“OK, first of all, don’t be patronizing to the dedicated people of the food service industry. There are a lot of people here who work very hard to provide a service the public needs so stuff your condescension. I am not one of those people, but you still shouldn’t be a dick, and that brings me to my second point of, what talents?” Mayuzumi said, offended on his co-workers’ behalf while simultaneously maintaining a realistic impression of himself as an employee. “I don’t have a college degree, I had crap grades in high school, and oh yeah, I have zero interest in a fulfilling career. This is _exactly_ where I should be working. I want nothing more out of life than what I have right now.”

Akashi gave him a reproachful look. “I am disappointed in you, Mayuzumi-san.”

“Fortunately for you and everyone in the world, I don’t actually have to care what the captain of my former high school basketball club thinks about me.”

“I can get you a job in my father’s company,” Akashi continued, as if Mayuzumi hadn’t said anything. “The pay is better and you do not have to work with frozen food.”

“No, thank you,” Mayuzumi said. “I’m fine where I am.”

“Let me correct myself. I _have_ gotten you a position with my father’s company, and you will start on Monday.”

“Akashi, believe me when I say I’m aware how absurd this sounds, but: you are not the boss of me. I graduated. I don’t have to obey you anymore.”

Akashi smiled and glowed red. “Actually, yes. Yes, you do.”

*

Mayuzumi was two weeks into working at Akashi Industries before he even realized what happened. He was determined to quit right then and there because goddamn it, he had his pride and he wasn’t going to be Akashi’s toy soldier anymore.

But then he got his first paycheck and, well.

Turns out he’s not _that_ proud.

*

And if he had to be brutally honest, it wasn’t _entirely_ Akashi Seijuurou’s fault.

Akashi Masaomi also had a fair amount of the blame.

*

He found he enjoyed the office job. It had set hours, and it was mostly mindless data entry, and it paid infinitely better than Maji Burger.

He found a nice place to escape to during his lunch breaks that had a shady alcove near the offices and he didn’t usually have to deal with other people.

It was a pleasant courtyard, with the unfortunate drawback of being the entryway to the Executive Offices. Which only became unfortunate the day Masaomi and his Executive Director started arguing personnel matters.

“You can’t keep firing the people I hire, Masaomi-san.”

“Yes, I can! I’m your boss! Also, stop hiring incompetent people.”

“Heiwajima-kun was perfectly competent; he had a list of accomplishments the size of—”

“Alright, then stop hiring _boring_ people. If I have to deal with another bleating sheep I’m going to scream. Why do I need another assistant anyway?”

“You don’t, _I_ need an assistant.”

“Nonsense, Akane-chan, you’re entirely capable to handle everything I throw at you—”

“Nevertheless, if you’re going to insist on the wide-range of tasks you feel my position is required to do, I will need assistance for some of the more mundane chores.”

“Is this because I asked you to pick up my dry cleaning? Fine, don’t pick up my dry cleaning; we’ll get someone else to pick up my dry cleaning. Hey, you! Peaches! Go pick up my dry cleaning.”

Since Mayuzumi was currently biting into a peach, it left little doubt as to who Masaomi was calling. So he swallowed his bite and casually said, “No, I’m not going to do that.”

His response was apparently so surprising that it completely derailed the argument as both Masaomi and his Executive Director stopped to stare at Mayuzumi, who continued to eat his peach.

“You _do_ work here, don’t you?” Masaomi asked, lifting up a brow.

“Yes, that is correct.”

“And you _do_ know who I am, correct?”

“There is a giant picture of you hanging on every floor, so, yes, I am passing familiar with who you are.”

“Then go pick up my fucking dry cleaning.”

Mayuzumi pointed to his wrist watch. “Darn, but it looks like I’m on my lunch break, which means I’m officially off the clock. Can’t help you.”

By now, Masaomi had strolled closer to him, looking down with the towering presence of Goliath. “Do you understand that with one word from me I can make sure you never work anywhere better than a Maji Burger ever again?”

Mayuzumi shrugged. “From the Maji Burger I came, to the Maji Burger I can return.”

And, in all honesty, maybe he _was_ hoping he’d be fired. He couldn’t in good conscience quit (when there was _that_ much money on the line) but frankly, it still chafed that Akashi had Ordered him to this job against his will.

Masaomi continued to stare at him, with such an intense aura that Mayuzumi was briefly concerned the man was actually going to have him executed.

But then Masaomi burst out laughing. “Oh, I _like_ you. Akane-chan, hire this kid.”

“Agreed,” the woman said, looking at Mayuzumi with cool interest. She was a pretty woman, with black eyes, dark brown hair tied neatly into a bun, and thin glasses that gave her a distinctly “librarian” like quality. “Mayuzumi Chihiro, entry-level data analyst, correct?”

“Yes?” he said warily. _That_ was slightly frightening. After Masaomi and his son, Hinamori Akane was the most important person in the company. How did she even know who he was?

“Congratulations, you have been promoted.”

“No, thank you,” Mayuzumi said, startled.

“You do not have a choice,” she said.

And Mayuzumi had bristled, fully prepared to tell her just what she could do with her promotion, but then she told him what his new salary would be.

Mayuzumi _really_ wished that wasn’t such an effective tactic.

*

So he became an Executive Associate. Officially, he was Hinamori Akane’s administrative assistant. Unofficially, he was Masaomi’s newest minion.

It rapidly became clear that Masaomi had a certain type when it came to his employees: he liked highly efficient, ambitious people who had mastered an array of skills, anywhere from combat to computer programming. He liked people who could stand up to him, but not as much as he appreciated competency.

Since Mayuzumi was the fifth person to be hired for this position in the span of three months, he figured it was only a matter of time before he was subsequently fired like the rest of them. He was nowhere near as qualified as most everyone else who worked in the general proximity of Masaomi (even the custodian made an incredible amount of money and, Mayuzumi suspected, was a secret ninja).

And he probably _would_ have been fired quickly enough, except then Akashi resurfaced.

*

“Father, your expenses in America have gotten out of control, and they have increasingly proven themselves to be bad investments.”

“I told you to leave my American accounts alone,” Masaomi said hotly.

“I would have, had you proved competent with the accounts. I am cutting those off.”

“You can’t do that!”

“As your Chief Financial Officer, you will find that I can.”

“Then I’m firing you.”

“You’ll also find that exceptionally difficult, my contract is impeachable.”

“Akane-chan, fire my son.”

“Seijuurou-kun is quite correct, his contract is ironclad. I helped draft it.”

“Well then, you’re fired.”

“I drafted my contract as well, Masaomi-san.”

“Everyone is fired!” Masaomi said, throwing his hands up in the air and plopping down at his leather chair. “Peaches, you’re fired. I can fire _you_ , can’t I?”

“Please do so,” Mayuzumi said, already calculating how much he would get as part of his severance package.

But before Masaomi could make it official, Akashi finally noticed his presence in the room. “Mayuzumi-san? What are you doing here?”

“I’m the Executive Associate to the Director,” Mayuzumi said, “Or I was. I’m fired now, so I guess I’ll just—”

“Absolutely not. If you are currently unemployed, you will transfer to _my_ division.”

“Ah ha ha. No. No way in hell.”

“Don’t be absurd, Mayuzumi-san. I need an Executive Associate, this is perfect.”

“Oh my God, no. Akashi, I am not going to be your personal assistant.”

“I could Order you,” Akashi said.

Mayuzumi raised a brow. “You would have to.”

There is only a slight breath of silence, before it’s broken by Masaomi. “You two _know_ each other?”

Mayuzumi blinked in surprise. He’d assumed Masaomi must have known that, it was really the only explanation for why he was still employed. “We played basketball together in high school. Didn’t you go to your son’s games?”

“Oh, what am I, a PTA chair?”

“Please refrain from absurdities, Mayuzumi-san.”

The father and son looked so mutually horrified at the suggestion that it actually made it easy to forget they weren’t blood related.

“Wait, was that the year you _lost,_ Seijuurou?” Masaomi said, delighted. “That year when you brought intense shame to the Akashi name because of your colossal athletic inferiority?”

Akashi only smiled, like he was wielding a knife. “I am sure I cannot have tarnished the Akashi name too much. I’ve seen pictures of _you_ when you were my age.”

“What? Where?” Masaomi yelped, alarmed. “I had all those destroyed!”

Akashi only continued to smile, like he’d been waiting for a while to use this particular weapon. “And no wonder, I would be embarrassed as well if I had ever been as scrawny as you.”

“I fought with my mind back then!” Masaomi defended. “Also, don’t derail the point. Peaches, you know Seijuurou?”

“Unfortunately,” Mayuzumi replied without thinking. Then he rushed in to add, “Don’t let that get in the way of you firing me, though, that seemed like a solid plan—”

“Nonsense, this changes everything. Peaches, I thought you were just an unambitious sarcastic slacker—”

“—That’s exactly what I am, don’t change your mind now.”

“But apparently you have hidden depths! How glorious.”

“Mayuzumi-san will be transferring to my division, father,” Akashi said, with a force that didn’t brook any kind of argument, ordinarily.

Masaomi just grinned. “Oh ho? It actually _bothers_ you that Peaches works as my assistant, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t be absurd,” Akashi said, perhaps a beat too quickly.

Masaomi threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, this is wonderful. What is he, an ex-boyfriend?”

Mayuzumi choked on a cough. Akashi’s look was gloriously withering.

“Of course not. But he is one of _my_ club members, and I will not let you ruin what is mine.”

“How rude! I am exceptionally nice to my employees! Peaches, aren’t I nice to you?”

Mayuzumi had to pause to reflect how strange his life had become that he was now being fought over by two Akashis. His life has been complicated enough when there’d only been the one to deal with, and now he feels a bit like a bone that two dogs each have a bite on.

“Need I remind you, Mayuzumi-kun does not work for either of you,” Akane broke in with her clipped tone. “He is _my_ assistant and so he will remain.”

“Which still just means he’s _my_ assistant,” Masaomi gloated.

“Actually, I have distinct memories of you firing me—” Mayuzumi started.

“You’re getting a 200% raise,” Masaomi said, off-hand.

Mayuzumi smiled. “Yes, of course, I work for Masaomi-san.”

He _really_ wished that wasn’t so effective.

*

“Going to school with the boss’ kid lands you a job like this?” Ryder says, still with a layer of skepticism.

“Apparently,” Mayuzumi replies with a shrug. “Mind you, it wouldn’t have worked if Akashi hadn’t wanted me to work in his division. Those two have…an _odd_ relationship.”

Vincent snorts. “You can say _that_ again. Rich people are _crazy._ ”

Mayuzumi agrees.

*

The two Jacks drop Mayuzumi off at his hotel.

“You sure you don’t want to check in with the company?” Vincent asks before leaving, in doubtful tones, like he can’t believe Mayuzumi really isn’t going straight to work.

Considering that almost everyone working for Akashi Industries tended to be extreme workaholics, Mayuzumi understood where the confusion was coming from. It usually took awhile for his co-workers to believe him that, no really, he _is_ a completely average, unambitious slacker. “Nope. I’ll check in the morning,” Mayuzumi said cheerfully. “See you then!”

He quickly makes his exit before the two can say anything else. He knows better than to think they’ll be far away—Masaomi liked to provide Mayuzumi with bodyguards when he was on business trips (“Because let’s face it, Peaches, if you’re attacked you’d be useless in a fight and essentially fucked. Bodyguards are way cheaper than workman’s comp lawsuits.”) but he really doesn’t feel like dealing with people anymore.

As always, Masaomi booked him the President’s Suite at the hotel, which made Mayuzumi’s room almost ten times bigger than his entire apartment back in Japan (he never saw the point of moving out of his one-bedroom apartment, just because he was now making more money than he knew what to do with. The fact that his living quarters constantly distressed both Masaomi and Akashi was just an added bonus.)

He instantly takes off his tie and suit jacket, and then collapses on the king-sized bed, face down into the pillows.

Despite the fact that he is incredibly jet-legged and exhausted from his flight, he doesn’t fall instantly asleep like he thought he’d would. He moves his face so that he’s no longer suffocating himself with pillows, and stares out the absurdly large window that gives him an excellent view of the LA skyline.

He wonders what he’s even doing here.

*

“Do you know what you’re doing here?”

“Honestly? No. Considering we’re alone in your office after hours, you’re either about to make me an indecent proposal or murder me.”

Masaomi snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself, kid, you’re not worth my time to do either.”

“I find that to be incredibly reassuring, thank you,” Mayuzumi replies dryly. “Although that _does_ beg the question—what am I doing here?”

Being Hinamori Akane’s right-hand man (who was Masaomi’s right-hand man) meant his hours were a whole lot less structured than he would ordinarily prefer. His job has already become something complicated and far beyond what he’d originally pictured.

“Do you drink?” Masaomi asked, pouring himself a glass of scotch.

“I’m underage,” Mayuzumi demurred.

Masaomi raised a brow. “Not what I asked.”

Mayuzumi thought on this and shrugged. “Sure, I’ll have a scotch on the rocks.”

After the glasses were filled and they each took a sip, there was a long silence where Mayuzumi wondered if maybe he was going to be murdered.

“You must have figured out by now that you’re not the usual kind of person I like to hire,” Masaomi said, with very little preamble.

“Yes, I had gathered,” Mayuzumi replied. The phrase “unambitious sarcastic slacker” sits between them, unsaid.

“Do you know _why_ I decided to keep you around?”

“To be honest, I assumed it was because it annoyed your son.”

Masaomi grinned widely. “Well, yes, that was an added perk. And I will say, Seijuurou is one of the main reasons you’re still around, but not in the way you think.”

“Alright,” Mayuzumi said, because it seemed like Masaomi was expecting him to say something.

“I keep you around because you’re unexpectedly fascinating.”

Mayuzumi didn’t say anything to that. He didn’t know what _to_ say to that. It seemed like a pointless effort to say, “No, actually, I’m not fascinating at all,” even though he knew that to be true. Unexpectedly, he got flashbacks to meeting Akashi for the first time. Akashi was the only person who had ever noticed him before, and he didn’t particularly _like_ being noticed then, anymore than he liked being noticed now. He can’t help but think both Akashi and his father were bad people to notice you.

“The thing is, Peaches, Seijuurou actually works very hard to appear human when he’s around other people. I find it fascinating that he didn’t bother to do so around _you_. I might even think you were friends.”

Masaomi waited, but Mayuzumi didn’t respond right away. He thought about Hayama, who once said that Akashi might not consider them his friends, but they were still Akashi’s friends. For other reasons, Mayuzumi tended to _not_ consider Akashi his friend, but only because he wasn’t the kind of person to call _anyone_ his friend. It had never been his style.

“I suppose,” he said finally, because Masaomi might wait forever for some kind of response and then Mayuzumi would never get home.

Masaomi’s lips twitched, but it was hard to read too much into that gesture.

“I make a point of studying everyone’s reactions around Seijuurou. Call it a hobby. And do you know what almost everyone does when they’re around Seijuurou?”

“They obey him,” Mayuzumi replied almost automatically, realizing only later that Masaomi hadn’t expected a response.

Masaomi looked like he was seconds away from patting Mayuzumi on the head and saying “good boy.” Instead, he just points his right index finger at Mayuzumi like he’s shooting a gun. “Exactly. They obey him. It doesn’t matter _what_ kind of person—I’ve seen the most domineering alpha-dog personalities instantly obey Seijuurou without question. I’ve seen the strongest, most athletic, combat-trained soldiers on edge around Seijuurou: he scares people. And with good reason. Seijuurou is very scary.”

Mayuzumi thought that was a strange way to talk about your son. “I’m not sure what your point is.”

“My point is that _you_ don’t make sense, Peaches. You’re not an alpha-type and you’re not a tough guy. I would also hazard a guess that you’re not particularly brave. In the world of wolves and sheep, you’re very solidly a sheep. So by all accounts, your reaction to Seijuurou makes no sense.”

The assessment of his character is so matter-of-fact that Mayuzumi could hardly take offense. “I think,” Mayuzumi said carefully, “That you are giving me far too much credit for something that is not all that impressive. There are a lot of other humans who are far more comfortable with Akashi than I am.” It wasn’t the time or place to bring up Akashi’s boyfriend, but Masaomi waved this aside like a non-issue.

“I’m giving you the exact amount of credit you deserve, and no more. I watched some tapes of your basketball games after you mentioned them—you clearly weren’t starter material. Didn’t it bother you at all that Seijuurou was making you be a Kuroko-replacement?”

It doesn’t surprise him that Masaomi was able to figure that out after a few games, although it is the first time anyone has asked him about the subject so bluntly. Even _Kuroko_ had been unwilling to broach the subject.

“It did,” Mayuzumi acknowledged.

“So what, you just loved basketball so much you were willing to play in any style?”

Mayuzumi couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “Hardly.”

“Yes, I’d rather figured. So, why do it?”

Mayuzumi thought this over for half a second before asking, “Does not knowing bother you?”

“Slightly.”

“Then I’m not going to tell you,” Mayuzumi said, grinning.

Masaomi only nodded, like he was expecting that. “You like being contrary.”

“Not particularly. I just never understood the kind of people who insist the world can be easily divided between wolves and sheep. It always makes me wonder where all the other animals are.” Mayuzumi sipped his scotch. “Not to mention the absurd generalization of animal characteristics that makes the entire metaphor inherently faulty. There’s plenty of really lazy wolves out there in the world. To say nothing about some fairly aggressive sheep.”

At this point, Masaomi threw his head back and howled with laughter. It was actually the most off-putting thing he’d ever done.

“OK, I can see why he kept you around,” Masaomi said, still chuckling.

“Is _that_ all you wanted to know?” Mayuzumi asked.

“Not quite,” Masaomi sobered. “The thing is, Peaches, it _is_ actually incredibly difficult to find someone who has the _right_ demeanor around the superpowered. Someone who isn’t afraid of them, I mean.”

“Is that important?” Mayuzumi asked.

“That depends,” Masaomi said thoughtfully. “How’s your English?”

*

At some point, Mayuzumi must have fallen asleep, because he wakes up feeling incredibly groggy—disoriented and a little like he’s in an altered reality. He stretches, cricking his back and gets out of bed.

It’s the evening now. Mayuzumi checks the clock and sees that he’s been asleep for about six hours.

Blearily, he takes out a small, leather-bound notebook and he opens up the pages to see his own messy scrawl.

_Sagittarius – soldiers; enhanced speed, strength; resistant to pain?_

_Capricorn – fish people. Breathe underwater; enhance speed & strength underwater_

_Libra – manipulation of emotions_

_Gemini – twins; telepathic bond with each other_

This is all the stuff of science fiction and Mayuzumi can’t believe this is his life. He closes the notebook and tucks it back into his jacket. Then he checks his email and sighs as he sends off a text.

It’s time to get to work.

*

The two Jacks are waiting for him in the lobby. Mayuzumi figures they’ve probably been there the entire time.

“I’m visiting a friend,” Mayuzumi says. “No need to escort me.”

Vincent raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. They both probably know that Mayuzumi is doing more than just visiting a friend, just like Mayuzumi knows they’re both going to follow him anyway. But all three of them keep up the pretense and Mayuzumi walks out with the illusion that he’s alone in a foreign city.

*

“Mayuzumi-san, it’s so good to see you again.”

Kiyoshi Teppei speaks with a kind of earnestness that you can’t help but feel like he probably means it and he’s not just spouting off platitudes, despite the fact that their sole interaction with one another was a single basketball game and it’s not like they’d actually conversed.

“Likewise,” Mayuzumi says. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. I know my email kind of came out of nowhere.”

“Not at all, it’s always nice to see a familiar face,” Kiyoshi says, with that same earnestness that almost manages to make Mayuzumi feel guilty about existing. “Sorry, I’m being rude; this is my friend Nijimura Shuuzou.” He gestures to the young man who had been standing off to the side at the initial reunion, and he steps forward smiling after Kiyoshi speaks.

“Call me Shuuzou,” Nijimura says, shaking Mayuzumi’s hand. “I’ve gotten used to the American way of doing things. Is it alright if I call you Chihiro?”

“Sure,” Mayuzumi says easily, even though he’s grimacing on the inside. The last person who had called him by his first name right after they met had been the “other” Akashi Seijuurou, and it hadn’t exactly left the best impression.

During this brief exchange, Mayuzumi can’t help but think this all occurred much more easily than he would have expected. “So, what do you two do for fun around here?”

The two exchange glances, and half-amused smiles, like an inside joke.

“Nothing particularly interesting,” Nijimura says.

“Would you like to go for coffee? When you’re in America, you drink a lot of coffee,” Kiyoshi says.

“Coffee sounds fine,” Mayuzumi says.

*

“So are you in America for long?” Kiyoshi asks.

“Just a couple of weeks,” Mayuzumi says.

“It’s so cool that you have relatives living in the area,” Kiyoshi continues. “It’s such a lovely coincidence.”

Mayuzumi sips his coffee and wonders if Kiyoshi is being sarcastic.  People sometimes called Kiyoshi “the most honest player in basketball” and painted the picture of the ultimate good guy. But Mayuzumi has _met_ the other Uncrowned Kings, and he feels like there’s no way this guy is as straightforward as everyone says. None of the Uncrowned Kings are ever just what they appear to be on the surface.

“Yeah, my aunt and uncle liked that LA has a high Asian population,” Mayuzumi says, sticking to his cover story. “How’s your knee? Kuroko asked me to try and find out how your recovery is going, although he probably expected me to be more subtle about it.”

Kiyoshi laughs and his hand rests on his knee, almost unconsciously. “Ah, Kuroko’s a good kid,” he says fondly. “My recovery is going fine, although I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come back.”

Mayuzumi takes another sip of his coffee and mulls over the words. Maybe he’s just prejudiced due to overexposure to three out of five Uncrowned Kings, but he gets the distinct impression that Kiyoshi is only speaking in half-truths right now.

“Have you ever had a cake pop, Mayuzumi-san?” Kiyoshi asks, abruptly.

“Can’t say that I have,” Mayuzumi replies.

“I should go get some, I really like them,” Kiyoshi hops out of the chair and heads back to the line which, Mayuzumi can’t help but note, has reached epic proportions in length.

“He did that for my sake,” Nijimura says, drawing Mayuzumi’s attention back to him. “He knows how much I wanted to talk to you.”

Mayuzumi raises his brows, surprised. “You wanted to talk to _me?_ ”

“Ever since Teppei told me you were coming,” Nijimura says with a grin.

“Because of Akashi,” Mayuzumi realizes.

“You said that with such conviction.”

Mayuzumi shrugs, “There isn’t any other reason why you’d want to talk to me.”

“You sell yourself short,” Nijimura says.

“I really don’t. So. What do you want to know?”

Nijimura pauses, scrunching his nose up in thought. “How is he?”

“Akashi?”

“That is who we’re talking about, yes.”

Mayuzumi just shrugs. “OK, I guess.”

“What was he like in high school?”

“Kind of a jackass,” Mayuzumi says, causing Nijimura to laugh. “Aloof, but well-liked,” Mayuzumi feels compelled to answer more considerably. “He was hard to get close to, but everyone always felt safer with him around.”

“Huh. That’s almost hard to imagine,” Nijimura says, more to himself than anything else. “And he really has a boyfriend now?” Mayuzumi nods. “What’s _he_ like?”

“Kiyoshi could tell you more than I can,” Mayuzumi says. “He’s—”

“One of Teppei’s kouhai, I know. I guess I meant, what’s Akashi like with him? Is he a good boyfriend?”

Mayuzumi can’t help but feel like that’s an odd line of questioning, and he wonders if Nijimura is jealous. He doesn’t _sound_ jealous—just curious. “Yeah, I think so. Akashi’s good at everything he does, so I imagine dating isn’t any different.”

This response gives Nijimura pause for some reason. “You’re his friend.”

“What makes you say _that?_ ” Mayuzumi asks, wondering why everyone keeps accusing him of being Akashi’s friend.

“Just a feeling I get. You’re a pretty interesting guy, Chihiro.”

Mayuzumi is getting flashbacks to his conversation with Masaomi and Akashi, and he really wants to know what he’s doing wrong that gives everyone the mistaken impression that he’s interesting.

“Not like you,” he ventures, almost recklessly. He should probably be more subtle than this, but he figures he might as well lay everything out there. “You’re one of the few people I’ve ever heard Akashi talk about with respect. You must know him a lot better than I do.”

Nijimura shakes his head. “I knew ‘Red’—0102 was a very different sort of person.”

Mayuzumi leans back in his seat and studies the man sitting across from him. There is nothing about Nijimura Shuuzou that would lead you to believe he’s not human. He doesn’t have the unusual hair and eye coloring of the Miracles; he doesn’t even have their intimidating presence. Mayuzumi always figured that even if you dyed their hair and gave them colored contacts, people like Akashi Seijuurou or Murasakibara Atsushi would still seem extraordinarily _other._

But the man sitting across from him seems like a regular Japanese man. In fact, between the two of them, Mayuzumi probably looks more like a Teiko Project, with his light hair and eyes.

“The boy I knew would never have a human lover,” Nijimura continues, when Mayuzumi doesn’t say anything. “He wouldn’t have a human father, and he wouldn’t have a human friend like you. None of the Miracles would have—hearing Teppei talk about them just blows my mind sometimes. I’m almost sorry I missed out on witnessing the change firsthand. I’d really like to know how they stopped being Teiko.”

What an odd way to phrase that, Mayuzumi thinks. “You could visit them.”

Nijimura just shakes his head. “It’s better for all of us if I stay far away from those guys.”

Mayuzumi has a hard time accepting that. He can’t help but think it’s a bad thing that the only person who can stop the Miracles from using their powers lives in a different country. And he _trusts_ the Miracles—he’s fairly certain none of them are going to abuse their powers.

But the world isn’t safe anymore—there’s all kinds of people out there and not all of them are as restrained as the Miracles.

“Well, if you’re looking to me to be some sort of Akashi resource, you’re out of luck. We played basketball together, but we didn’t exactly have in-depth conversations where we bared our souls to one another,” Mayuzumi says.

“No, I imagine not,” Nijimura says. “Red never trusted anyone. Not after Gold died.”

Mayuzumi wasn’t sure why Nijimura kept calling Akashi “Red” although it wasn’t difficult to assume it was a reference to Akashi’s Teiko days. He feels like in this situation he’s supposed to ask “Who is Gold?” but he doesn’t. On principle, he objects to asking anything when the other person so obviously wants the question to be asked. He hates it when people play at being deliberately vague.

“Well, there you go. I can’t help you with any Akashi related info.”

“That’s fine. I didn’t actually want to talk about him,” Nijimura grins.

Mayuzumi raises a brow and realizes that Nijimura never _did_ say he wanted to talk about Akashi. Mayuzumi had assumed and Nijimura went along with it. “Oh? Then what did you want to talk about?”

“You,” Nijimura says, grinning wider. “So, tell me, why did Akashi Masaomi send you here?”

*

The resulting silence is profound and awkward. Kiyoshi comes back carrying a trio of prettily frosted things that look like lollipops. He sits down and stares at both of them, and then ventures, “Should I go back in line? I could buy cookies.”

“If you knew I was working for Akashi Masaomi, you could have just said from the beginning,” Mayuzumi says, his voice mild. “It would have saved me a lot of effort at subterfuge.”

“Oh, you told him already?” Kiyoshi asks his friend.

“I wanted to see how well you lied,” Nijimura answers Mayuzumi. Then, to Kiyoshi he says, “Turns out, fairly well. I figured there wasn’t much point in keeping up the pretense.”

“I’m surprised at _you,_ ” Mayuzumi says to Kiyoshi, “You have a reputation for being so honest.”

“Only in a basketball game,” Kiyoshi replies. “If you’d asked anyone at Seirin, they would have given you a very different impression about my character.”

“You contacted Teppei because you somehow knew he was my friend,” Nijimura says flatly, all his previous good humor abruptly gone. “Which you have to admit, is a dick move.”

Mayuzumi shrugs. “Dick move” was pretty much standard business practice for Akashi Industries. Luckily for Mayuzumi, he’d already sold his sense of shame when he accepted the various promotions. “It seemed like the best avenue for approach. How’d you even know who I work for? I’m not listed on any websites.” Masaomi had made sure Mayuzumi couldn’t be trailed back to Akashi Industries when he sent him undercover.

“I had my suspicions when Teppei said an old classmate of Akashi’s contacted him out of the blue. There were other signs, but they weren’t really confirmed until your bodyguards walked in.”

“My what?” Mayuzumi cranes his head and sees Ryder Stevens and Vincent Gallagher in line for coffee. “Oh for the love of—they were supposed to stay in the hotel.”

They aren’t in suits anymore—they look exactly like normal college students, which must be why they were selected for this role, despite their young age. So when Mayuzumi looks back at Nijimura, he has to ask, “How’d you know about _them?_ ”

“I _was_ military trained, once upon a time,” Nijimura says, taking a sip of coffee. “I know what signs to look for.”

“Well, they aren’t bodyguards. They’re Jacks,” Mayuzumi says, deciding right then and there that now that his cover was blown, the only way to save this was to be completely honest.

“Jacks?” Kiyoshi asks.

“Jack-of-all-Trades. Masaomi’s special set of employees who can do pretty much anything,” Mayuzumi explains. “Look, I didn’t want to be here, believe me. And you’re kind of incidental, anyway. I’m actually here to find out about the Legacy.”

He lets that fill up the spaces of the small, crowded coffee shop, all he has to do is lean back and see if Nijimura responds. Masaomi had said there’s no way Nijimura wouldn’t know about the Legacy, but how _much_ Providence knew was what interested him. If Providence was allied with the Legacy (and by all accounts, they were not) or if they had no interest in the Legacy, then Nijimura would shut the conversation down right now.

But if they were potential resources _against_ the Legacy…

“What a coincidence,” Nijimura says. “That’s something I’ve been trying to learn more about as well. Perhaps we could work together.”

“Great. I want to see inside Providence,” Mayuzumi says promptly, feeling no point in being subtle with his negotiations.      

“And I want to see inside the Center,” Nijimura returns, cocking a brow. “So, what do you say? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Mayuzumi grins. “Fine by me. I bet you mine is bigger.”


	2. Interlude 1 ~ Prophecy of the Kings ~

He died thirteen times and then they chose to spare his life.

As he was lying on the ground, weighed down by thirteen deaths, feeling something beyond pain—hollow and wrecked: like he’d been skinned, gutted, and left a mindless creature, too dumb to recognize his own anguish—he could hear them talking.

“I hate to waste a Rainbow; they’re so useful, and they’re not easy to make.”

“It would be too much of a risk. Best dispose of it now.”

“We really need to stop including Rainbows in the Generations anyway, it never goes well.”

“Fascinating, isn’t it? Oh! That’s it! We should put it with Miracle. 1101 killed 1367 the other day, and they need control.”

“ _This_ Rainbow? No, give Miracle one of the Generationless. King was a bad idea from the start.”

“No, no, I’m sure the Rainbow is different. Rainbows aren’t like the rest, and it would be interesting to see how it survives on its own.”

“It’s too risky—”

“We’ll test it. You, what is your name?”

There isn’t anything left of him. They killed him, over and over and over again. But there are triggers: Miracle. Name. _You have to remember._

So he says, “GK-R1365.”

“There, see? I told you. Rainbows are different. Pick it up and clean it. Then take it to Miracle, see what happens.”

He’s lifted off the ground and he thinks _Shuuzou. My name is Shuuzou._

*

They were the only Generation to choose names for themselves: Shuuzou, Agata, Chidori, Noriko, Hajime, Hisomu, Nico, Honoka, Yuta, Izo, Tomoe, Tamiyo, Sotaru, and Tsukasa. They were secret, private names, and no one was supposed to know they had them, but the scientists found out anyway. But not before Tsukasa had his premonition.

“Teiko will fall,” he said, and he told his prophecy to everyone, but he only looked at Shuuzou when he spoke. “Even now, Teiko builds its own destruction.”

“How?” Nico asked. “How, how?”

“Miracle,” Tsukasa replied, still looking at Shuuzou. “Miracle will be a Success, and Teiko will burn to the ground.”

“So the Successes will destroy them? How ironic,” Hajime said.

“No,” Tsukasa corrected. “It will be a Black, a failure. There’s a Black they are trying to train like a Rainbow, but in doing so, they’re going to fall.”

“A Black like a Rainbow?” Noriko asked, clearly amused. As the Black from their Generation, it was something that appealed to her. She looked at Shuuzou, as if to invite him to share in her amusement, but Shuuzou never took his eyes off Tsukasa.

“It won’t work,” Shuuzou said. “If you saw it, other Golds will see it. One of the other Golds will tell the scientists.”

“That’s just it, they won’t. They can’t. Even if they see it, they’ll forget. That’s why this Black is different. He’s not like Noriko: he doesn’t manipulate light, he manipulates memory. The other Golds will forget as soon as they know, and that’s why this Black succeeds.”

“Why can _you_ remember, then?” Yuta asked.

“Because of Shuuzou,” Tsukasa said. “Shuuzou, you’re important to Miracle. I remember, because I remember you. You _have_ to remember, OK Shuuzou? You have to tell the other Rainbows.”

“What?” Shuuzou asked. “Don’t be crazy, I don’t talk to the other Rainbows.”

“You will. And you’ll tell them.”

“Then _they’ll_ tell the scientists. The other Rainbows aren’t like me, _remember_?”

“They won’t,” Tsukasa said firmly. “Promise me you’ll remember, Shuuzou. It’s important that the Rainbow Thirteens know that Teiko is going to fall.”

“And we’ll be free then, right?” Nico asked. “We’ll be out and we’ll never have to be hurt again.”

But Tsukasa just ignored her. “Promise me, Shuuzou.”

“OK,” he said. “I promise.”

*

He must have known, Shuuzou realizes. When he glances back at the murdered bodies of his Generation he realizes this was something Tsukasa had foreseen.

Generation King was destined to die, and Shuuzou is alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Kings were heavily inspired by the anime Kiznaiver, so I decided to use all the Kiznaiver character names as King names (they all came with different colored hair, so that was convenient too) but despite the fact that they have the same names and they look the same in my head, they are not the Kiznaiver characters and this is not a crossover with that show. In case anyone was wondering =P


	3. Chapter 2

Kiyoshi Teppei sometimes feels like his life is defined by being on the periphery of greatness. It’s something that might have bothered a different sort of person, but Kiyoshi never wanted greatness; peripheral or otherwise.

In middle school, they gave him the name “Iron Heart” and the title “Uncrowned King”—to signify how in another age he _might_ have been something extraordinary, had he lived in a time when “extraordinary” hadn’t been so astoundingly redefined by the existence of the Miracles. Kiyoshi hated both the name and the title, but he never could bring himself to hate the Miracles.

*

“Did you guys bring back any cigars?”

“No, the good doctor told me I had to stop enabling you,” Nijimura replies.

“What? And you listened? Not cool, kid. This betrayal runs deep.” Bobo eyes Kiyoshi.

“I don’t have cigars either,” he says, unasked.

“Feh. I know _you_ were a lost cause,” Bobo grunts.

“What the hell,” Mayuzumi says. “No. Seriously. _What the hell?_ ”

“And who are you?” Bobo demands.

“Bobo, this is Chihiro. Chihiro, meet Bobo Haha.”

“ _Why is the monkey talking?_ ” Mayuzumi demands in Japanese.

“Getting the monkey to talk was no problem,” Nijimura jokes. “It’s getting the monkey to shut up that was nearly impossible.”

“Fuck you both,” Bobo says in Japanese.

“He speaks Japanese?” Mayuzumi startles.

“Just the curse words,” Bobo says, switching back to English. “Seriously, Shuu, where do you even get these guys?”

“Through the magic of basketball and friendship,” Nijimura replies.

Bobo rolls his eye—the other covered in an eye patch makes the gesture all the more dramatic. “White’s in a mood, so watch yourself.”

“White’s always in a mood,” Nijimura says affably.

“He’s in with the Board.”

“Ah. I’ll stay out of the way. Better make sure Rex keeps his head down—and that goes double for _you,_ monkey.”

“Chimp,” Bobo corrects, like he always did. “And look at this face—is the face of trouble?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nijimura says as Bobo saunters away.

“OK, so, Providence clearly wins the ‘what the fuck’ award of the human experimentation facilities,” Mayuzumi says, watching the chimp leave.

Nijimura snorts. “Oh man, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

*

Nijimura had been a lot kinder when he introduced Kiyoshi to Providence—he’d told him about Bobo and the other EVOs beforehand.

“Providence was working on nanotechnology, not human experimentation,” he’d explained from the start. “It’s almost more tragic when you think about it—all the lives Providence ruined was by accident, instead of malice. They’ve been trying to keep the EVOs contained, and help them when they can. But yeah, who knew science could go so wrong in so many ways?”

Kiyoshi thought he was being sarcastic on that point, but it was sometimes hard to tell with Nijimura. At any rate, Kiyoshi thought all things considered, Providence _was_ more tragic. He’d seen the EVOs—the ones who had to be contained because they couldn’t be saved, not at the moment—and they were like ravenous, mindless monsters, straight from some horror film.

It made his heart hurt to think they used to be ordinary people just like him.

*

“No, seriously, _what the fuck?_ ” Mayuzumi asks, after seeing the Providence men bring in an EVO. “How is this not in the papers yet?”

“Luck, mostly. Some tabloids and your obligatory conspiracy websites have figured things out, but so far no one’s buying it yet,” Nijimura says.

“And you’re telling me this is all because of robots?”

“Nanites,” Nijimura says helpfully.

“OK,” Mayuzumi says, frowning slightly. Then he shrugs, processing the information a lot faster than Kiyoshi did. “Fine. Whatever. You guys are nuts. What’s your connection to the Legacy?”

They’ve moved towards the commissary, and now they’re sitting down for a late dinner. Kiyoshi only picks at his food—he hasn’t fully adjusted to western food all the time and sometimes he really misses home.

He shouldn’t be here. Studying Mayuzumi Chihiro has been kind of fascinating. Kiyoshi never knew the Rakuzan Third Year—not any more than he knew anyone he’d played basketball against. But despite some superficial similarities to Kuroko and Kuroko’s style of basketball, Mayuzumi was one of the most ordinary people in the Winter Cup tournament. It is somewhat surreal to see him here, in Providence, engaging with Nijimura on equal footing. It’s all business now—and it’s a very strange business to be part of—and as he watches Mayuzumi, Kiyoshi thinks the other man is probably really good at his job.

“Well, that’s kind of a complicated question,” Nijimura evades, and Kiyoshi winces. “What is Akashi Masaomi’s interest in the Legacy?”

The two men are staring at each other, and Kiyoshi thinks it’s a bit like when two dogs meet each other for the first time. They’re circling each other, sniffing the air, and they haven’t decided whether or not this new dog is friend or foe. Kiyoshi thinks that it’s not so much a test for dominance as it is one of stubbornness. Neither Mayuzumi nor Nijimura wants to be the first to give in.

“You should just show him, Shuuzou,” Kiyoshi says gently. He gets the feeling that these two are stubborn enough that this whole thing might drag on forever, unless he intercedes. “He should understand what’s at stake.”

Nijimura gives him a sidelong glance, as if saying, _Really?_

Of course, it’s not Kiyoshi’s place to have an opinion on anything. He’s really only on the outside of this story, and he shouldn’t be here at all.

*

He wouldn’t have even met Nijimura, except Alexandra Garcia had been helping Kiyoshi with his surgery and rehabilitation, and she’d seen him by chance when they were out to lunch.

“Oh, Shuuzou! It’s so nice to see you again.”

“Hi, Alex,” Nijimura said, clearly pleasantly surprised by seeing her again.

“Shuuzou, this is Teppei. Oh man, this is like six degrees of Kevin Bacon. Teppei, Nijimura Shuuzou is an old friend of Tatsuya’s. Shuuzou, Teppei is on the same basketball team as Taiga, you know—”

“Tatsuya’s ‘brother.’ Yeah, I met him recently. You’re on Kuroko’s team?”

Even Alex looked surprised by that statement.

“You know Kuroko?” Kiyoshi asked.

Nijimura grinned, a lopsided sort of expression. “Yeah, sorta. I knew him when he was a kid.”

“But Kuroko—” _was never a kid,_ Kiyoshi stopped himself from saying. Kuroko grew up in Teiko, and it wasn’t possible for this man to have known him then. Except then he thinks how _Nijimura_ fit a certain pattern that a certain group of people all had in their family names, and he falls silent.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kiyoshi said finally. “We should get together sometime—I really miss speaking in Japanese. Alex makes me practice my English when I’m with her.”

“You _asked_ me to,” Alex says hotly. And if she’s thinking through the same implications Kiyoshi had about Nijimura’s backstory, she doesn’t reveal it.

“I’d like that,” Nijimura said. “I’d like to hear more about Kuroko.”

*

Nijimura likes to claim that he has very little influence in Providence, but he moves about the facility with two outsiders in tow and no one ever questions their presence, so Kiyoshi has long since realized that whatever Nijimura’s role in this place is, it provides him a lot of leeway.

Kiyoshi hadn’t really expected Nijimura to listen to him, so he’s a little surprised when they end up in one of the open hangers, with the EVO the Providence men brought in earlier.

This EVO looks like a giant centipede, thrashing about violently, resembling something straight from the stuff of nightmares. The Providence soldiers are still trying to subdue it, keeping it down with thick cords, holding their guns (set to stun) at their sides, ready for anything.

“Is this supposed to prove something?” Mayuzumi asks.

“Hush and watch,” Nijimura says.

“Stop moving!” someone shouts down below, “I’m trying to help you!”

A boy jumps on the centipede EVO’s back, and holds out his hands. No matter how many times Kiyoshi has seen it before, it always takes his breath away when the EVO glows and disappears, leaving behind a shaking, naked man.

Mayuzumi lifts a brow, as if watching a monster turn back into a man was only slightly unusual, but nothing to write home about. “Well, alright. That’s impressive. What is that?”

“That’s Rex,” Nijimura says. “He’s infected with nanites too, only he can control his. More to the point, about 90% of the time he can turn the infected EVOs back to their human form.”

“Convenient,” Mayuzumi say.

“Incredibly,” Nijimura agrees. “So you can see why we’re a little distressed that the Legacy seems to have a ‘the only good EVO is a dead EVO’ policy.”

“Ah,” Mayuzumi says, looking back to the confused man, now wrapped in an emergency blanket. “Yes. I see why that would be off-putting.”

Kiyoshi wonders just what has happened in Mayuzumi’s life that would make all of these seem so normal. Kiyoshi had laid awake at night, after he learned about the Hunters. The first time they found a dead EVO in the desert, Kiyoshi was thoroughly sick, thinking about how that was a _person,_ a person who could have been _helped,_ and—

“Shuuzou, we’ve talked about this,” a new voice says, interrupting Kiyoshi’s thoughts and causing him to jump slightly. “This is not your personal show and tell.”

“Agent Six,” Nijimura says, beaming widely at the tall, angry man in a suit and sunglasses. “I would never breach protocol for fun. This is Chihiro Mayuzumi, he works for Akashi Industries. Chihiro, please say hello the sixth most dangerous mercenary in the world, or so he tells us. You can call him Six.”

“Charmed,” Mayuzumi says.

“Likewise,” Six says dryly. “If he works for Masaomi Akashi, then he has even _less_ reason to be here than your friend.” Six jerks his thumb at Kiyoshi, so there’s little room to doubt whom he’s referring to. “We’ve been over this already—”

“And I disagree with you,” Nijimura says flatly.

“Providence has enough enemies without your vendetta against the Legacy,” Six says.

“Yeah, well, if you didn’t want the Legacy pissed off at us then you _really_ shouldn’t have killed the Capricorn Elder, now should you have?” Nijimura tosses back.

“You killed Yamazaki Seiji?” Mayuzumi says, sounding mildly intrigued.

Both Nijimura and Six look at him. “ _That’s_ an interesting name for you to know,” Six says.

“That’s an interesting person for you to have killed,” Mayuzumi returns. “I hear those Yamazaki guys are hard to keep down.” All three men stare at each other, guarded, and Kiyoshi is once again reminded that he really doesn’t belong here.

“Providence does have enough enemies,” Nijimura says quietly, breaking the silence. “And the Legacy is on that list, whether you like it or not, so it’s time we have some allies.”

Six doesn’t take his eyes off Mayuzumi, and Kiyoshi wonders what it is the mercenary sees when he looks at him. Kiyoshi had known immediately that he fell under the “not a threat” category; he could see Six dismiss him in their first meeting. Six doesn’t disregard Mayuzumi as easily.

“Masaomi Akashi sent _you_ to negotiate with Providence,” Six says, with so much heavy skepticism it can’t even properly be called a question.

“Actually, he sent me to spy on Nijimura,” Mayuzumi says. “The Providence thing is largely incidental. But I can get you in touch with my boss if you’re interested. She can negotiate the crap out of anything.”

Six looks distinctly unamused, and leaves without saying anything else. Mayuzumi turns to Nijimura and says, “I’ll leave you her business card. If you want to talk to Masaomi, Hinamori Akane is the one you _really_ want to talk to.”

“Good to know, thanks,” Nijimura says. “But actually, I have something else in mind. Something I think _you_ can help me with.” He glances back to Kiyoshi. “ _Both_ of you.”

*

“See, the Legacy has their own line of rebels—”

“Ophiuchus, yes I know,” Mayuzumi says.

Nijimura blinks, because obviously _he_ hadn’t known they had a name, but he recovers fast enough that Kiyoshi doesn’t think Mayuzumi noticed. They’ve been walking around the perimeter of Providence for over an hour now, (Nijimura thinking it was perhaps best not to draw any more attention) and only just now getting to anything relevant. “Right, so, they’re the most logical people to help with the rest of the Legacy. And I’ve tried reaching out to them, but the thing is, they don’t exactly trust Teiko.”

“Really? The ones Kise and Akashi met didn’t have much problem with them,” Mayuzumi says. “And anyway, what’s the issue? You can pass as human.”

“That’s the thing, I _can’t_ pass as human, not to Legacy. And OK, fine—they don’t trust _me_ ,” Nijimura amends. “It’s a Rainbow thing.”

Mayuzumi gives him a look to indicate that this is clearly not going to cut it if Nijimura wants Mayuzumi’s help. Nijimura sighs, and Kiyoshi wishes he could intervene—he knows that it’s a sensitive subject for Nijimura, even if he doesn’t understand _why_. But he feels like this is something Mayuzumi needs to understand if they’re going to work together, so he keeps quiet.

“It’s like magnets,” Nijimura says, just like how he always explains it to people. “If you put two magnets together, they repel each other. It’s the same thing with Rainbows and the other Projects—it’s extremely uncomfortable to be near each other. Unfortunately, it’s the same way around Legacy-lines; they instantly know what I am and they’re not happy about it.”

Mayuzumi looks at Nijimura with a distinctly speculative expression. “That means _you_ always know when you’re around a Legacy-line.”

Nijimura startles but then grins slowly. “You _do_ catch on quick. Yes, exactly. The Legacy has made it a point to infiltrate almost every major government organization in the world. It is important to them that they are not recognized. You can see why they might not be too happy with the existence of someone who can recognize what they are on sight.”

“Yes, I _can_ see that,” Mayuzumi allows. “So. How do we feature?” He flicks his eyes towards Kiyoshi, acknowledging that the other man is still part of this conversation.

“I want to make contact with the Legacy-line rebels, but I can’t do that on my own. Providence doesn’t trust _any_ of the Legacy, so they won’t help me. The rebels _might_ trust Akashi Masaomi, so that’s where you come in. But at any rate, two humans have a better chance of forming contact than I do.”

Kiyoshi isn’t sure why he’s being included in this, and he wonders if it’s just Nijimura taking pity on him. It’s not something he’s really involved with at all, and he’s not sure he could possibly have anything to offer in such an important task.

“And you know how to contact them? Are they listed in the phonebook?” Mayuzumi asks snidely.

“I know _where_ they are,” Nijimura fires back. “There’s an Ophiuchus base in Colorado. If we meet them on their home turf, they might be inclined to hear what we have to say and help us. Unless you’re in contact with the rebels in Japan?”

Even though nothing shows on his face (Kiyoshi thinks that training with Kuroko’s style of basketball must be a useful skill in the corporate world) Mayuzumi is clearly debating just how much he’s interested in revealing.

“No, not exactly,” Mayuzumi finally admits. “To be honest, they have not been particularly forthcoming with information. And they _haven’t_ been all that interested in discussing things with Masaomi-san. I’m not sure your plan is going to pan out.”

“It will,” Nijimura insists. “So are you in?”

“To randomly travel with you to Colorado?”

“Yeah.”

Mayuzumi shrugs. “Sure, why the hell not?”

“Awesome. I still want to see the Center, though.”

“Come by tomorrow in the afternoon. Technically, I haven’t been there yet either. I should probably check in,” Mayuzumi says.

“Perfect. Teppei, that work for you?”

Kiyoshi looks questioningly at Mayuzumi, to see if he’s going to object to his inclusion in this invite, but Mayuzumi’s expression never changes. “Sure, I’m not doing anything. It sounds like fun.”

“Great,” Nijimura says, clapping him in the shoulder. “We have a plan then.”

*

“Here,” Mayuzumi hands Kiyoshi an envelope before heading out of Providence. “I promised Kuroko I’d give this to you.”

Kiyoshi looks down at the envelope in surprise, seeing Kuroko’s neat handwriting on the front. “You actually talked to Kuroko?”

“Of course. Just because you discovered my cover really early on doesn’t mean I didn’t put a fair amount of effort into it,” Mayuzumi says. “I really did talk to Kuroko about seeing you. As far as he’s concerned, I’m visiting my aunt and uncle. Probably. Maybe he saw through it, too. Hard to tell with that guy.”

“It was nice of you to deliver the letter, thank you,” Kiyoshi says.

Mayuzumi just snorts. He’s not looking at Kiyoshi when he says off-hand, “You know, Kuroko thinks you’re still recovering from knee surgery.”

“I am,” Kiyoshi protests, stung.

“Yeah?” Mayuzumi says. “We’ve been walking for over an hour and you haven’t faltered once. Not so much as a limp.”

Mayuzumi’s gaze is now pinned on him, and it’s Kiyoshi’s turn to look away. “It takes more than walking to strain my knee,” he says, feebly.

“Yeah, OK,” Mayuzumi says, all but rolling his eyes as he walks away. “It’s going to be so much fun to go on a secret mission with you guys. I predict many awkward silences.”

“I _like_ him,” Nijimura positively beams after Mayuzumi leaves Providence. “He is way more perceptive than I would have thought.”

“Yeah,” Kiyoshi says, his hands touching his leg almost self-consciously. Providence’s doctors had worked wonders—so much so Kiyoshi was vaguely concerned he now had tiny robots in his body. (They all assured him that he did not).

“Do you really want me to come along?” Kiyoshi asks, hoping to change the subject away from his knee.

“I do,” Nijimura says, sobering. “Listen, Teppei. You don’t _have_ to—it might be dangerous, and I don’t want anything to happen to you. But I think your perspective could be really valuable with this.”

“But I’m just an ordinary human,” Kiyoshi protests. “I’m not connected to the Miracles or Providence or anything.”

“It’s _because_ you’re ordinary that I think you’re important,” Nijimura insists. “You’re not like the people dating the Miracles, and you’re not working for an outside facility like Akashi Industries or Providence. You’re just a guy. And I think we’re going to need people who don’t have a stake in this.”

It makes a certain amount of sense, even if Kiyoshi still thinks Nijimura is just trying to make him feel included.

“Oh, head’s up,” Nijimura says, and then his arms are draped over Kiyoshi’s neck and he’s leaning in close, tilting his head close to Kiyoshi’s face—so much so that from certain angles they might even look like they’re kissing.

This is not the first time Nijimura has become unexpectedly handsy with him, and by now Kiyoshi knows the cause of the sudden affection.

“Shuuzou-kun, if you are not here to work, then you and your _friend_ should not be on base,” a clipped, cool voice says.

Nijimura pulls back slightly, still hanging from Kiyoshi’s neck. “Oh, Himuro-san. Nice to see you again. Did you have a nice board meeting?”

The elegantly dressed, handsome Japanese man frowns at both of them. Kiyoshi doesn’t say anything, figuring it was best just to keep quiet in the presence of Himuro Ryuichiro.

“White Knight has kept admirable control over a terrible situation,” Ryuichiro says stiffly. “Despite some _very_ wild cards.”

“Hmm,” Nijimura says, his hands moving lower down Kiyoshi’s back.

Ryuichiro’s face twists in disapproval and he inclines his head stiffly before walking away.

“Why do you like to needle him?” Kiyoshi asks when he’s out of earshot.

“It’s what Tatsuya would want,” Nijimura says solemnly, dropping his hands and pulling back.

As far as Kiyoshi could tell, Himuro Ryuichiro was one of those homophobic men who weren’t overtly aggressive with their homophobia, but were distinctly uncomfortable around openly gay men. Which was certainly unfortunate for his openly gay son, but Kiyoshi was also sadly aware that the circumstances could have been much worse for Himuro.

“He really doesn’t seem to like you much,” Kiyoshi remarks.

“He thinks I fucked his son,” Nijimura says.

“Did you?”

Nijimura grins. “No, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

“Does Himuro _know_ his father is one of the corporate partners to Providence?” Kiyoshi asks, since the question has been bugging him ever since he found out that Himuro Ryuichiro sat on the Board of Directors.

“I don’t think so,” Nijimura says. “Poor Tatsuya. He wanted to live in a SciFi novel so badly he had no idea how many people in his life were already in one.”

“He’s certainly involved now,” Kiyoshi remarks, remembering that Himuro Tatsuya was now dating Murasakibara Atsushi.

“I _still_ can’t believe he’s dating 989. That’s so wild. The world is such a small place sometimes.”

Kiyoshi looks at Nijimura curiously—Nijimura seemed to deliberately use the Miracles’ “designations,” as if he felt he didn’t have the right to use their names. (Kiyoshi hadn’t even realized the Miracles’ _had_ designations, until Nijimura started calling Kuroko “452.” It added a layer of sadness to what the Miracles had gone through, so much so that he wishes Nijimura wouldn’t do it. But, he figures, Nijimura must have his own reasons for defaulting to the numbers, and it’s not Kiyoshi’s place to press).

“You said you knew 989 when he was at the JSDF base, right?” Nijimura asks abruptly.

“Yes, that’s right. My middle school team arranged a practice game against the Miracles. It didn’t end well.”

“No, I imagine not. Teppei, are you _sure_ you want to help? I’m not sure you realize how dangerous it is.”

*

Kiyoshi thinks a lot about that early encounter with Murasakibara Atsushi; it’s a private lingering regret of his that he didn’t do more. When they played against the Miracles, it’s not like it was a _surprise_ that they lost, even though some people from his school had been bitter afterwards as if they had expected a win.

“Why are you trying so hard?” Murasakibara had asked. “You know you’re going to lose.” And Murasakibara had seemed so angry at Kiyoshi’s response that it stuck with Kiyoshi for months (and years) afterwards. It had seemed almost unbearably sad that the boy objected so strongly to anyone fighting against futility.

At the time, he’d wanted to go back to the base. He’d heard that they were inviting human teens to the base to socialize with the Miracles, and he’d wanted to volunteer. It wasn’t really possible, thanks to his living situation, but it was an idea that stuck with him anyway.

He couldn’t help but think there was a lot of loneliness there, and he’d wanted to do what he could to ease some of the pain. But he hadn’t. Meeting Kuroko, and the other Miracles, and then Nijimura, only solidified that sense that he was right—there probably _was_ a lot of pain in the Miracles back then. And he’d had the chance to try and to the right thing, but he’d let that chance slip him by.

It bothers him a lot, now, that he hadn’t done the right thing back then. Who’s to say he _could_ have made a connection—that he could have made a difference at all in any of their lives—but it bothers him a lot that he hadn’t even tried.

*

That’s why he says, “Shuuzou, I’m happy to do anything to help, you know that, right?”

Nijimura winces. “Yeah, Teppei, I know. That’s a little bit what I’m concerned about. It could be dangerous. I don’t want to take advantage of the fact that you’re a good guy.”

Kiyoshi doesn’t respond right away, thinking about how much he hates it when people call him _good,_ or _honest_ , or any other virtue that he finally feels is an incredibly inaccurate assessment of his character.

But, then again, he remembers how much he hated the name _Iron Heart_ , and realizes that he didn’t like it too much when the appellate hit too close to home. Apparently, he was just never happy.

“You’re not taking advantage of me, I genuinely want to help,” Kiyoshi insists. He still can’t imagine how he possibly _could_ help, and he still suspects that Nijimura’s offer is out of pity.

“Teppei, I _do_ want you to come. But I also sorta feel like whether or not you do depends on your answer to a rather indelicate question.”

Kiyoshi doesn’t show his surprise. “I’d tell you anything, Shuuzou.”

“Alright,” Nijimura says, with heavy skepticism regarding that statement. “Why _aren’t_ you going back to Japan?”

Kiyoshi can’t help himself from flinching, and he’s worried he’s already lost. “I’m not sure why _that’s_ relevant,” he protests half-heartedly.

There’s a very heavy silence, as Nijimura continues to look at Kiyoshi with deep skepticism. Clearly, _he_ thinks the answer is relevant, although Kiyoshi can’t imagine why.

But Nijimura has been a good friend these past couple of months—a better friend than Kiyoshi probably deserves—and so it’s not so hard to offer him some kind of truth. “It was getting a little hard to stay in Japan,” he starts, and even if he is comfortable with Nijimura it’s surprisingly difficult to talk about it.

“There’s this girl,” Kiyoshi says, rubbing his neck and looking away. He hopes that’s all he has to say, but Nijimura’s expression states this isn’t going to cut it. “I’m in love with her. And so is my best friend. It was better if I wasn’t around.”

There. The truth. (Not the _whole_ truth, a dark voice whispers. But certainly true).

Nijimura sighs. “Yeah, I figured it must have been something like that. That’s exactly why I’m worried about bringing you on a trip like this, Teppei. You have this tendency to think that if someone has to suffer, it might as well be you.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Kiyoshi says, almost a little resentfully. He _would_ much rather be the one in pain, rather than see anyone else he cared about hurt. And he doesn’t see why that’s a bad thing.

“It’s a little selfish, for one thing,” Nijimura says. “And it’s bound to get you killed, one way or another.” He claps Kiyoshi on the shoulder before heading back into Providence, “Think on that, Teppei. There are plenty of people in your life who don’t want to see _you_ hurt.”

*

It was a bit unfair for Nijimura to tell him that he was being selfish for essentially doing what Nijimura himself did all the time. Nijimura Shuuzou was perpetually on the alert to take care of other people. Kiyoshi has often thought Nijimura would have made an excellent basketball captain.

When Mayuzumi first emailed him out of the blue, it wouldn’t have occurred to Kiyoshi at all to suspect some ulterior motive behind the action. He’d only mentioned that Mayuzumi was visiting because he thought Nijimura might be interested in meeting someone who had gone to the same school as Akashi.

But as soon as he told Nijimura this, the other man had fallen silent and then said, “And you never talked to him before now?”

“No, not really,” Kiyoshi had replied, not following the train of thought at all. “I didn’t even know he was in contact with Kuroko. But it makes sense to reach out given that, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it makes sense,” Nijimura said, his voice still strange. “And he went to _0102’s_ school? In Kyoto?”

“Yes?” Kiyoshi said, finally catching on to the fact that Nijimura was very suspicious of this random greeting. “Why is that so strange?”

“Because 0102 was adopted by Akashi Masaomi,” Nijimura said. “Sorry, Teppei. It might honestly be nothing, but I’m going to look into this a little more. It’s a little too coincidental.”

Apparently, Nijimura had been worried for awhile now that someone might try to use Kiyoshi to get to Providence. And he’s been coldly furious when he’d been able to find loose traces that Mayuzumi _had_ worked for Akashi Masaomi. He had been so furious, in fact, that it was hard to believe his smiling openness when he’d actually met Mayuzumi—Kiyoshi went into that meeting thinking he would have to intervene before things got violent. But whatever they’d talked about when he got up to get cake pops must have put Nijimura’s mind at ease.

Nijimura cares a lot about the people in his life. That’s why it’s so hard to figure out why he invited Kiyoshi on this mission—does he want him there? Does he not want him there? It’s too hard to tell.

Kiyoshi doesn’t even know if _he_ wants to go on this mission, or if, like Nijimura was subtly accusing, he just wanted to escape his own problems.

*

When he gets back to Alex’s apartment, he takes out Kuroko’s letter. He snorts when he reads it—Mayuzumi really never had a chance at a successful subterfuge.

_Dear Kiyoshi-senpai,_

_I am not sure if Mayuzumi-san will read this letter before giving it to you or not, but I thought I would at least caution you against his motives. I am not sure I believe his reason of visiting relatives in America, although if it turns out to be true, I apologize for my doubt._

_I hope you are doing well and that your knee is healing nicely. I hope you come back soon. The new First Years are very kind, but Seirin is not the same without you._

_Please email Coach and the captain. They do not say it, but I know they are very concerned about the fact that they have not heard from you in awhile._

_Say “hello” to Nijimura-san and Alex-san for me._

_Sincerely,_

_Kuroko Tetsuya._

As Kiyoshi folds the letter back up carefully he thinks about how Kuroko certainly knows how to twist the knife.

He takes out his phone and looks at the last emails he got from Hyuuga and Riko. _Idiot, you’re making Riko sad_ and, _Please write back, Teppei, everyone is getting worried._

He had _meant_ to respond to both of those emails as soon as he got them. Just like he’d meant to write back every day since he got them. Every day, he thought, _Today I’ll write back_ and then the end of the day came and he still hadn’t done it.

He should do it _now_ , but he emails Kuroko instead.

_Got your letter. Mayuzumi’s a good guy. Tell everyone I’m fine._

He turns off his phone immediately after hitting “send” and lays down in bed. It’s so late in the day it’s technically early, and Kiyoshi has no idea what he’s doing.

He knows one thing, though. Whatever Nijimura has planned, he wants to help. Because he definitely doesn’t want to go back to Japan.


	4. Interlude 2 ~ The History You Can't Erase ~

When Shuuzou wakes up again he is still very much in pain, but strangely the air around him is more comfortable than it ever has been before. He immediately feels a wave of guilt so intense it makes him nauseous. _Are you glad they’re dead?!_ And he starts to hyperventilate.

“Ah. You woke up. Congratulations.”

The cool, emotionless voice is like a bucket of ice down his back and it calms Shuuzou’s breathing. A girl kneels down—black hair and black eyes like him, staring at him with an absolutely unreadable expression. “54 did not believe you would survive. But I thought you might.”

He pulls himself up, still feeling like an open wound. The air _is_ lighter, and now he understands why. “Who are you?” His voice is hoarse, as if he’d been screaming for a very long time, and consequently his question sounds more abrasive than he intended.

“62,” she introduces herself, indifferent to the tone of his voice.

“What— What Generation are you from?” He’s never met the Jabberwocky Rainbow, but all his encounters with Jabberwocky led him to believe he wouldn’t enjoy the encounter.

The girl tilts her head. “I am one of the Generationless.”

The phrase means nothing to him. Without further prompting, she rolls up her smock and bares her thigh to him, stating clearly **1362**. Branded onto his own skin is **GK-R1365.** The first two letters are the connection that bonded him so tightly with the other Kings.

“Do you really not know your own history?” she asks, her own voice still devoid of those little indications of humanity—things like emphasis, inflection, and curiosity that are usually present when someone speaks.

There is no history in Teiko, so he’s not sure what she’s talking about. He thinks she must be talking about the history of the Rainbows, but he’s never been interested in that. He doesn’t care about the Rainbows. He’s only ever cared about the Kings.

(And they’re gone. He’s alone. Their deaths are still with him. He doesn’t care about anything now).

“Rainbows are the antithesis. We are not meant to be included in Generations, and typically we are not. Every now and then, the scientists like to experiment and put one of us in a Generation, but it never ends well.”

“I don’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dark eyes fix on him. Still flat and unreadable, it’s like being stared at by the night sky. “Yes. You do. We are not meant to interact with the other Projects for extended periods of time. Usually, we die. Laurel, Jabberwocky, Indomitable, Heaven. They all died, within a couple years of exposure to their Generation.”

He didn’t know that, and it makes him all the more sad that he is alive when the others are not. He shouldn’t be here. He should be dead, not them.

“So far, the only ones to have survived were you and Miracle.”

“Miracle—” Shuuzou jolts, something tugging at his memory.

“Dead, now. He survived exposure, but he went a little insane from it, and so his Generation killed him.”

“They _killed_ him?” Shuuzou says, horrified. He can’t imagine such a thing—to kill your own Generation, to betray your own Generation—he would have died a thousand times over before hurting someone in his family.

“He had a tendency towards violence and sadism. Or masochism, depending on how you want to look at it.”

Miracle. It starts to come back to him. _You have to remember._ “They’re going to put me with Miracle.”

“Yes, I believe that is their intent,” 62 replies.

_You have to remember. You have to tell the other Rainbows._

“So Miracle can kill me too?” Shuuzou asks bitterly. He doesn’t even care. Let Miracle kill him.

“To see what will happen. That’s why they do anything they do,” 62 says. “You should know that better than anyone, 65. The scientists came close with Jabberwocky, but that Generation was too violent and unstable. Laurel was too soft, too passive, too weak. King was their attempt to create a bond between Projects, to see if cohesion would boost individual powers—”

“Shut up!” Shuuzou says. “Shut up, you have no idea what you’re talking about!”

The girl doesn’t look bothered at all by his outburst. “It is your history, GK-R1365. The history you can’t erase.”

_You have to tell the other Rainbows._

But he doesn’t want to, not yet. He can’t bring himself to trust this strange, emotionless girl. Not so soon, when he can still feel the death of his family on his flesh.

“My name is Shuuzou,” he says tiredly. His name is Shuuzou, and _that’s_ what he won’t forget, no matter what else happens.


	5. Chapter 3

James “call me Jamie” O’Reilly is the most personable man Mayuzumi has ever met, and it is incredibly disconcerting, considering he was in charge of one of Masaomi’s facilities. Mayuzumi is used to a particular brand of cutthroat bitch when it comes to the people Masaomi trusted to run one of his companies, and it didn’t match up at all with the smiling, dimpled brown-haired man who had pictures of his wife and kids plastered all over his desk.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Chihiro, we’re doing some really great things and I can’t wait to tell you all about them,” Jamie beams, smiling widely and talking at a rapid pace.

“Can’t wait,” Mayuzumi says, wondering what Masaomi had told this man about his presence here. “I’ve heard a lot of good things about, err, SAPRRCOE?”

“The Shiori Akashi Physical Rehabilitation Research Center of Excellence,” Jamie says helpfully.

“That must be a bitch to put on business cards,” Mayuzumi remarks.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, drooping slightly. He perks up again in no time. “We have Brand working on it. There’s been a lot of positive results.”

“Did he name it after his mom or something?” Mayuzumi asks, having a hard time picturing Masaomi with any kind of filial devotion.

“No?” Jamie says, quizzically. “He named it after his wife, didn’t you know?”

“He has a _wife?”_ Mayuzumi exclaims, horrified. It honestly never occurred to him that Masaomi might be married; he seemed like such a bachelor.

“ _Had_ a wife,” Jamie corrects. “She passed away some time ago. Her portrait’s in the foyer.”

Finding out that Masaomi was a widower was, for some reason, even stranger than finding out he was married in the first place. It also struck Mayuzumi as particularly bizarre that he would name a facility—especially _this_ facility—after his dead wife. Masaomi is not someone who does things for sentimental reasons, so there must be some ulterior motive behind the decision, but for the life of him, Mayuzumi can’t think of a single thing it could accomplish.

“So, do you want to see the Center?” Jamie asks, sounding doubtful all of the sudden. Like maybe he’s realizing that the young man standing in front of him has no idea what’s going on here.

“Sure,” Mayuzumi says, smiling and doing his best to sound professional. He really wishes he knew what Masaomi told these people about why he was here.

*

“So over here is the play area,” Jamie says, waving his hand to the left. “It’s where the kids can relax. We have the standard xBoxes and PlayStations and other entertainment devices, but also, as you can see, areas for our more athletically inclined.”

“I see,” Mayuzumi says, glancing at the impressive rock climbing wall and elaborate jungle gym. A couple teens were ziplining.

“A lot of the kids don’t like going outside all that much, so we try to bring the outdoors to them,” Jamie explains. Mayuzumi thinks the man is justifiably proud of what they’re doing here, but he does wonder why the President and CEO is running the tour.

“And here’s our labs—the kids don’t come here all that much, unless they want to, of course. Some of our kids have an interest in science and medicine, so naturally they’re encouraged to work with our researchers.”

“It’s very…colorful.” Mayuzumi thinks most lab technicians wouldn’t wear tie-dye lab coats, or the rainbow array of equipment the lab materials seem to come in. Everyone and everything is in bright colors, down to the microscopes.

“Mr. Akashi thought the children wouldn’t feel comfortable around white,” Jamie says solemnly.

Mayuzumi nods. That was the kind of thoroughness Mayuzumi had come to associate with Masaomi. Contrary to popular belief, Akashi Masaomi wasn’t a heartless tycoon bent on destructive capitalism and exploitation. He cared about his employees and he wanted them to be happy.

It only made sense, really, that Masaomi would make sure that the children who had been abducted by mad scientists would feel comfortable living in a laboratory environment.

“I’m surprised so many of them were willing to live here,” Mayuzumi remarks off-hand. Actually, he’s surprised the JSDF and the general public _allowed_ it. But Akashi Masaomi had a way of getting what he wanted, and he’d wanted to build a place for the children rescued from the second Teiko to live and feel safe.

“A lot of them didn’t have anywhere to go,” Jamie says sadly. He seems like the kind of man who had a hard time hiding what he felt, which makes it all the more strange to find him in a position of power in one of Masaomi’s companies. “They didn’t have families, or the families they had weren’t in the position to take care of them. Mr. Akashi knew the government would never be able to bankroll a place for them to stay, so he decided he would.”

“And if he gets to study them up close it’s a win-win all around,” Mayuzumi says dryly.

“Oh, gosh no,” Jamie says, green-eyes widening. “I mean, yes, but it’s not like that at all. The kids want to know what happened to them. They want to control their abilities, or maybe even go back to being a regular human someday. They’re more invested than anyone about finding out how their biology works.”

Mayuzumi believes that, but he’s also known Masaomi to get exactly what he wants, all the while making people think it was what they wanted.

“You can talk to the kids yourself,” Jamie says. “We have nothing to hide here.”

“I’m sure you’re doing an excellent job,” Mayuzumi says, soothing some of the resentment that had leaked into the president’s voice. “But I would like to talk to some of the kids, if you don’t mind. All part of the job, you know.” That was a gamble, since he’s still not sure what Jamie O’Reilly thinks Mayuzumi’s job is.

“Of course,” Jamie nods. “Follow me, I’ll introduce you to some of them.”

*

“So, be honest with us, are you fucking Masaomi Akashi?”

Mayuzumi thinks it’s probably a good thing he wasn’t currently eating or drinking anything, because otherwise he would have gagged and choked and then probably died from the sheer horror of that question.

As it was, he’d spent a year copying the basketball style of an expressionless kid, so he’s face remains coolly neutral when he replies, “No. Good lord, he’s old enough to be my father, that’s disgusting.”

Charlie Lancaster just laughs. “What, are you kidding me? That guy is _fit._ And he’s not _that_ old. He was voted number one DILF on tumblr.”

Mayuzumi tries to picture this and fails. He will never understand the way libidos work. He had a similar problem whenever people talk about movie stars.

“You don’t even have to be gay to say you’d bang Masaomi,” Charlie offers. “I feel like it takes a guy really secure in his own masculinity to admit there’s a whole lotta sex appeal radiating from Masaomi Akashi. Right, Zane?”  

The heretofore silent Zane Monart just nods thoughtfully.

“So you can admit it to us, _we_ won’t tell,” Charlie says.

“I am not, nor have I ever, nor will I ever, have sex with Masaomi Akashi. Why would you even  think that I was?”

Charlie just shrugs. “You’re like, what? Twenty? How else did you get this job?”

Mayuzumi arches a brow. “My sunny disposition.”

Charlie completely ignores this option. “I figure, either you’re a genius or you fucked your way to the top.” Charlie flicks her eyes over him. “And you don’t look like a genius.”

“Thanks. I’m flattered you think I look like someone who could make it using only my sex appeal,” Mayuzumi says, causing Charlie to laugh.

Both of the teens—the rather androgynous Charlie and the quiet, gangly Zane—seem far too thin, and despite their smiles there was something about them that made you think they’d been through a trauma. The children who had been rescued from the second Teiko were either incredibly built supersoldier types or, like these two, incredibly frail looking, like a strong wind could just shatter them to pieces.

“Come on,” Charlie wheedles, drawing Mayuzumi’s attention, “You can tell me. What are you _really_ doing here?”

Mayuzumi opens his mouth to reply but then Zane taps him on the arm, drawing his gaze towards the taller youth and derailing his train of thought.

“Charlie,” Zane chides, frowning at his friend. “The Boss Man wouldn’t like it.”

“Oh _fine,_ but you’re no fun,” Charlie rolls her eyes and Mayuzumi is surprised to realize he’d been about to tell Charlie the truth about why he was here.

An uneasy suspicion occurs, and Mayuzumi makes up a polite reason as to why he has to amble away and talk to two girls who are crowded over a table with a bright purple microscope.

“Did Charlie try to Order you?” one girl says, lifting her gaze up. She looks Japanese, except she has green eyes, which surprises Mayuzumi somewhat since most of the Japanese children rescued from the second Teiko chose to stay in the JSDF rehabilitation center. She speaks English without an accent, though, so maybe she’s American.

“She did,” Mayuzumi says.

“He likes to do that,” the second girl says, her voice barely a whisper.

“He?” Mayuzumi asks. “But I thought—” Jamie had been the one to say, “Charlie and Zane are some of our longest residents. You can ask Charlie anything, she’s very sociable,” and Mayuzumi had taken his cue from Jamie regarding Charlie’s gender.

“They like to switch pronouns to confuse people,” the green-eyed girl responds. “They think it’s funny to watch people get upset about it.”

“Ah, gotcha,” Mayuzumi says sagely. The two girls seem a tad surprised by his blasé response, and he doesn’t feel the need to explain that he’d gone to school with Mibuchi Reo, who provided very lengthy and informative lectures on the ins and outs of gender fluidity.

“Red Heart and Black Heart,” the quiet white-haired girl says. She’s wearing large sunglasses that cover most of her face.

“Charlie can Order you if you’re looking at them,” the green-eyed girl explains. “But if you close your eyes, it’s not as effective. That’s what I do.”

“Good to know. Zane has a Black heart?”

“Sure. Fill-in-appropriate morality pun here if you’d like, but he’s the nicer of the two,” the green-eyed girl says. “He can manipulate light, so Charlie’s power doesn’t work on him.”

“I wasn’t going to make a joke, I just hadn’t known they’d bothered to transfer any of the Black Projects, so I was surprised. Black wasn’t a Successful Project category.” And he can’t help it if he has a special interest in Black Projects—Akashi had trained him to mimic Kuroko, after all.

“Neither was White,” the pale girl says softly.

Mayuzumi really looks at her for a moment. She grips the arm of her friend, more like for support than as an affectionate gesture, and she has a lot of bruises, as if she falls a lot.

“I’m Chihiro Mayuzumi,” he says slowly, aware that he hasn’t introduced himself yet.

“Marie White. Marie, for Marie Curie, White for—” she shrugs. “Or S10-984. If you’d like.”

“Marie is a pretty name,” Mayuzumi says, realizing that she must be one of the children they never managed to track down a name or history. The kids didn’t remember anything about their previous lives—or at least, not often—so if their fingerprints weren’t in federal systems or if there had never been a missing child report filled out for them, they remained lost.

“Mari Hoshizou,” the green-eyed girl. “S7-768. Green Heart, Green Eyes.”

Mayuzumi can’t help but think it’s a little creepy that they seem to identify themselves by the organs that had been put inside them. (But then, why not? If you didn’t have anything else to identify yourself with). “Marie and Mari. It’s cute.”

“Why are you here?” Mari asks suddenly, hostility that’s been there the entire time finally bursting through.

“No reason,” Mayuzumi shrugs. “I just wanted to see if you liked it here, I guess.”

“What are you, a social worker?”

“Are you kidding me? Do you think I could afford a suit this nice on a government salary?”

Mari laughs, and Marie just smiles shyly. “So you _are_ one of Masaomi’s guys. Why are you here?”

“I really am just checking out the Center.” Then, because he figures it might put them at ease, he says, “I knew Akashi Seijuurou in high school. We were…friends, when he was abducted.”

Mari snorts. “Ah, you mean, the only reason anyone ever gave a damn about what happened to us.”

Mayuzumi doesn’t try to defend the people who rescued the second Teiko children—all things considered, he thinks a fair amount of people _did_ care, a whole lot—but he understands where she’s coming from.

“Do you like it here?”

“It’s not really your business, is it?” Mari challenges and the objects around them start to rattle like an earthquake is happening.

“It’s not,” Mayuzumi says, keeping his voice mild, “But I know a few people who could help you if you _didn’t_ like it here.”

“I like it here,” Marie says.

“It’s home,” Mari says, her voice still quiet, but firm. The objects settle around them. “For some of us, it’s the only home we’ve ever had.” Which all things considered, must be true, since the majority of the children didn’t remember their lives before Teiko.

“Gotcha. I’ll back off then.” He gets up figuring that’s enough social interaction for one day.

He stops when something grabs at his jacket. Marie looks up at him, eyes hidden behind her glasses. “You know the Miracles,” she says.

“I’ve met some of them,” Mayuzumi clarifies, confused by what’s happening. “I don’t know all of them.”

“I remember them,” she says quietly. Mayuzumi frowns, and figures she must be talking about when the Miracles stormed the second Teiko. “Sometimes, I dream about them.” Marie continues, her voice faraway. “And I remember them. I remember Cairo. Can you tell them that?”

“Sure,” Mayuzumi says slowly, thoroughly confused. “I can do that.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. I’ll tell them you remember Cairo.” Which makes no sense whatsoever, since the second Teiko had been on an island near Hawaii.

“Thank you,” Marie say, releasing her hold on his suit jacket.

Mayuzumi moves away.

*

“You have a very impressive facility,” Mayuzumi tells Jamie after re-grouping, since some kind of report seems necessary.

“Thank you. I’m just following Mr. Akashi’s direction,” Jamie says modestly. Since Mayuzumi has seen Masaomi when he’s in charge of things, he’s inclined to think the man _is_ just being humble. Masaomi is never anywhere near this organized.

“A couple friends of mine will be dropping by later,” Mayuzumi says.

“Of course, anything you’d like. What are their names? I’ll have visitor passes made,” Jamie is already tapping at his iPad.

“Teppei Kiyoshi and Shuuzou Nijimura.”

Jamie’s fingers still, he looks up, frowning. “The Providence guy?”

“You know him?” Mayuzumi says, surprised.

“We’ve had run-ins with Providence before,” Jamie purses his lips, looking the most ruffled Mayuzumi has seen him all day. “We are a Rehabilitation Center,” Jamie explains, his voice stern and slightly disapproving. “The work we do here, Chihiro, is to understand what happened to these children and to help them. We are _not_ a genomics facility. Mr. Akashi was very firm on that.”

“Yes, I know.”

*

Masaomi _had_ been particularly clear on that. “I’m not interested in genetic engineering,” he’d said. “I’m only trying to understand what exists; I am not interested in developing my own innovations.”

“You’re making a pretty fine distinction,” Mayuzumi had replied. And considering he’d recently had his own blood drawn for Masaomi’s private research project, he felt like maybe the distinction was only a matter of semantics. “I don’t see why you’re quibbling. It’s not like anyone thinks you’d be like Teiko, if you want to engineer the new human, just say so.”

“No,” Masaomi said, his voice hard. “I’m not. And I won’t. Ever.” Some of the tension drained then, as Masaomi consciously shifted back to a more carefree manner. “But I do like knowing things. And that’s where _you_ come in, Peaches.”

*

“And I have to say, I don’t like how they do things over in Providence,” Jamie says, breaking through Mayuzumi’s reveries.

“Really? They seem to be about rehabilitation, too. Of a sort,” Mayuzumi replies, thinking about the way the boy Rex could turn the monsters back to human.

“For some,” Jamie says cryptically. His brows are still furrowed in discontent, but then he sighs. “If that’s what you want, Chihiro, I’ll get him a pass.”

“Thank you,” Mayuzumi says, once again wondering what Masaomi told his people about Mayuzumi’s presence here.

*

“And that’s where you come in, Peaches,” Masaomi had said, when he first introduced this project to Mayuzumi. “I trust you read the files I gave you.”

“About the super-secret crazy breeding cult?” Mayuzumi asked. “Yes, it read like a particularly poorly-written light novel. You’re really telling me that superpowered humans exist naturally?”

“Is that really so hard to believe? When you consider that superhumans exist ‘unnaturally?’”

“No, I suppose not,” Mayuzumi said. “It just seems like if they’ve been around as long as you say they have, we would know that by now.”

“That’s why the crazy breeding cult is ‘super-secret,’” Masaomi said dryly. “Apparently, they make a point of choosing their best and brightest and having them infiltrate agencies all over the world. Since, for the most part, they don’t come conveniently color-coded with all the colors of the rainbow, it’s hard to figure out whether or not you’re talking to someone in the Legacy.”

“Which means there could be a Legacy-line in your own company,” Mayuzumi said.

“You’re such a bright kid, why didn’t you go to college?”

“Wow, you sounded _just_ like my mom right there.”

“Ha! You should be so lucky. The point is, I need more information. The Legacy-line rebels I was talking to clammed up pretty quick once they figured out who I was. Apparently, I seem untrustworthy.”

“I can’t _imagine_ where they’d get that impression,” Mayuzumi says.

“Watch it, kid, I still sign your paychecks.”

“Actually, Hinamori-san signs my paychecks—”

“I get no respect around here. Peaches, I am _trying_ to tell you what you’re doing here, so shut up and let me explain, will you?”

Mayuzumi mimed zipping up his lips.

Masaomi huffed and looked up at the ceiling, like he was beseeching the heavens to spare him from youths. “I need you to find out what the other eight Legacy lines can do.”

Mayuzumi waited for Masaomi to finish explaining, but when he didn’t say anything else, Mayuzumi exclaimed, “Wait, that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Masaomi said.

“And you need _me_ to do this?” Mayuzumi said. “One of your newest employees? Straight out of high school? You don’t have anyone more qualified?”

“I have a million people more qualified than you, Peaches. Pretty much every other employee I have is more qualified than you. The guy who brings me my coffee each morning is more qualified than you, our fabulous caterers who make lunch every day are more qualified than you—”

“Yes, thank you, excellent job of emphasizing my exact reason for refusing your—”

“I’m not done. I have more _qualified_ people than you, but as you pointed out not two minutes ago, I have no way of verifying whether or not they’re Legacy-line.”

Mayuzumi was beginning to suspect he was talking to a crazy person. “What makes you so sure I’m not?”

“You really want to know?” Masaomi asked, and he said it in such a way that made it clear that Mayuzumi probably didn’t want to know.

“I think if I’m even remotely going to consider your insane job, I insist on knowing,” Mayuzumi said.

“Because you’re an unambitious slacker my son had to Order away from a Maji Burger. If you were a Legacy-line plant, you would have shown more initiative.”

Mayuzumi thought this over and wondered if he felt insulted. He decided he didn’t.

“I have, unfortunately as it seems, set the standard for employees. I like hiring prodigies and savants, just like I enjoy hiring the naturally athletic, or the extremely dedicated, hard-working individuals with ambition. With that standard in place, any one of my millions of employees could be secretly Legacy-line. The only one I know for sure is not Legacy is Akane-chan, and she has far too public of a presence as my Executive Director to successfully go undercover. That leaves you.”

“So,” Mayuzumi drawled, “My general incompetence ensures my humanity and makes me the only one who can find out what you want?”

“Essentially.”

“And why can’t _you_ just find it out?” Mayuzumi asked, still 85% certain he didn’t feel insulted. “I’ve seen you hack the Pentagon.”

“Hacking the Pentagon is surprisingly easy,” Masaomi said. “You know what I can’t hack? A crazy breeding-cult nutjob. Turns out, when you’re a thousand year old breeding cult, you’re not real big on keeping electronic records. I’m betting they’re keeping all their archives written down on scrolls somewhere guarded by monks.”

“How dare they be so inefficient,” Mayuzumi murmured.

“Indeed. And like I said at the beginning: that’s where you come in.”

*

“Wow, I am definitely seeing the advantages of privatization,” Nijimura says after touring the Center.

“Akashi Masaomi is open for partnerships,” Mayuzumi points out, like a good corporate employee.

Nijimura makes a face. “No, thanks. I get the feeling that’s a little bit like making a deal with the devil.”

Mayuzumi has to admit that’s not a totally inaccurate comparison.

“Even the food is good,” Kiyoshi remarks. The food court in the Center is nothing like the commissary in Providence. Kiyoshi is currently enjoying the products of a very extravagant sushi bar.

“Well. You were right. Yours _is_ bigger,” Nijimura says, grinning slyly at Mayuzumi.

“You know what they say, it’s not the size, it’s what you do with it,” Mayuzumi says, grinning back.

Kiyoshi coughs slightly, and shuffles in his seat. Nijimura smiles fondly at his friend, and shifts topics to something less-innuendo filled. “So, you still up for a road trip then?”

Mayuzumi’s brows furrow. “Sure, if by ‘road trip’ you mean, hop on a plane with you to Colorado.”

“No, I mean hop in my Toyota Corolla and pray it doesn’t break down between here and Colorado,” Nijimura corrects.

“Ha ha ha. No.” Mayuzumi has never really been on a road trip for anything longer than a couple of hours, but he’s fairly certain he can’t imagine anything he’d _less_ want to do. “If money is an issue, I can buy your tickets.”

“Oh ho, look at Mr. Money. Don’t be so quick to fling your moneybags around, Big Spender. It takes us poor government employees jealous.”

“I was planning on using Masaomi’s money, actually. I’m pretty sure this qualifies as a business expense.” Not that he couldn’t afford to buy the plane tickets himself. Although it was still somewhat strange to realize that he _was_ in the position where he could afford such things.

“You call your boss by his first name?” Nijimura asks, his voice strange.

Mayuzumi scowls, and wonders if yet another person is wondering if he’s fucking his boss. “Not to his face. I can’t help it, I already have one Akashi in my life, and he was there first.”

“Hm,” Nijimura says. “Well, anyway, money’s not the issue. But if you could get a lot of cash to bankroll our trip, that would help a lot, Mr. Rich Guy. The problem is that credit cards can be traced by hackers.”

“Do you expect there to be a lot of hackers in the crazy breeding cult?” Mayuzumi asks.

Nijimura raises his brows. “You’re kidding, right? Have you not encountered the Pisces-line?”

“No,” Mayuzumi says, trying to sound only mildly intrigued. “Is that the hacking line?”

“Pretty much. They can manipulate energy. It makes them very good with computers.”

Mayuzumi concentrates on his own meal. He had also decided to get sushi. There was a particularly obscene roll that came deep-fried, and Mayuzumi had decided he needed to try it. Deep-fried sushi is surprisingly tasty, even if it is an abomination. “Do you know a lot about the other lines?” he asks casually, thinking that if he _did_ then they could just call off the stupid trip altogether.

“No. If I did we wouldn’t need to go on this trip.” Nijimura echoing Mayuzumi’s thoughts so perfectly it causes Mayuzumi to almost drop one of his rolls, but he doesn’t think Nijimura notices. “I mean, if I knew enough about the Legacy to know all their lines, that would mean they were already our allies, right?”

“Right, of course,” Mayuzumi says. “But you’ve met some of them?”

“Run-ins with Pisces-line here and there,” Nijimura says. “And there was that fiasco with the Sagittarius-line a few months ago, when Six killed Yamazaki Seiji. I’m assuming you know about the Sagittarius-line?”

“Super soldiers,” Mayuzumi says, nodding his head.

“After that, I only know about the Taurus-line. They can increase density.”

“What does that mean? They make things heavy?”

“Yeah, temporarily,” Nijimura takes a long draw from his Pepsi and stares at Mayuzumi. “Now your turn.”

“There’s Sagittarius-line all over Japan,” Mayuzumi says easily, because he’d been expecting the question. “After that, I only know about the Capricorn-line.” He launches into a vivid description about the fish people (he hasn’t actually met one, but Masaomi’s notes had been thorough) and it’s lengthy enough that the two seem to believe him when he says he doesn’t know what any of the other lines are.

He’d feel bad about lying, except for the way Kiyoshi had looked up when Nijimura said the only other line he knew about was the Taurus-line. If Nijimura isn’t revealing all his cards yet, then Mayuzumi isn’t either.

“Fascinating. And unusual, most of the other lines all seem largely psychic, instead of affecting their own bodies with shapeshifting,” Nijimura muses. “At any rate, you see why we can’t fly.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to recommend taking one of Masaomi’s private jets, and he’s actually a little appalled that was his first thought. (Has it really become so easy for him to depend on luxuries?)

He stops when realizes that _he_ doesn’t know how to fly a jet, and he’s fairly certain Nijimura and Kiyoshi don’t either, so that’s a bit of a stalling point. Masaomi had been very clear that they couldn’t trust anyone not to be Legacy-line. (Njimura, he recalls, can _tell_ when someone is Legacy-line, but Mayuzumi instinctively balks at depending entirely on the other man to tell him who to trust. He’s beginning to think he’s absorbed too much of Masaomi’s paranoid way of thinking, and that maybe he should really start looking into a new line of work).

“Fine. Can we at least take one of Masaomi’s company cars? They’re really nice.”

“Nope, too noticeable. We’re talking my ‘99 Toyota Corolla and liking it, Rich Boy.” Nijimura pats him on the shoulder, “But I was serious about you bankrolling our gas. Get lots of cash.”

Mayuzumi scowls, resenting the epithet “Rich Boy” even if it’s now technically true.

“I’ll bring the snacks,” Kiyoshi says happily. “On road trips, you need to have lots of snacks.”

*

“I don’t like this.”

Mayuzumi looks up blearily at Vincent Gallagher (Ryder Stevens glowering right behind him) and thinks it’s far too early in the morning to deal with angry Americans. “Duly noted. What don’t you like?”

“You going off alone with that Providence guy. We’re supposed to be your bodyguards, we should come with you—”

“I’m not sure what Masaomi told you,” Mayuzumi interrupts, “But I’m really not important enough for your concern. You can call him if you’d like. I promise you won’t get in trouble.”

Ryder looks him up and down skeptically. “Do you even know _how_ to fire a gun?”

“Point and shoot, right? How hard can it be?” Mayuzumi quips mercilessly.

“Oh Lord,” Vincent says. “No. OK, you need to call that Providence guy right now—”

“Relax,” Mayuzumi says, rolling his eyes. “I promise if I die you won’t get fired.”

“That’s not the reason we’re concerned,” Ryder says. “OK, not _entirely_ the reason we’ve concerned—”

“I’ll send you a postcard,” Mayuzumi says brightly, as a very old, beat up, dark green Toyota Corolla pulls up. Over the protests of his bodyguards he climbs into the backseat after flinging his suitcase in the trunk.

“This thing better have air conditioning,” he snarls while buckling up.

“It does!” Nijimura say, far too cheery at 6:30 in the morning. “But it works like crap. Driving through Arizona is going to be _fun._ ”

“Oh God,” Mayuzumi says, leaning back and closing his eyes. “Wake me when we’re in Colorado, OK?”

“Sure, sure,” Kiyoshi says from the front seat.

*

All things considered, a lot of Mayuzumi’s crankiness is largely because he didn’t sleep well last night. He was still jetlegged and also strangely anxious so he’d stayed awake almost all night. First, he updated his notebook.

_Sagittarius – soldiers; enhanced speed, strength; resistant to pain?_

_Capricorn – fish people. Breathe underwater; enhance speed & strength underwater_

_Libra – manipulation of emotions_

_Gemini – twins; telepathic bond with each other_

_Pisces – manipulation of energy_

_Taurus – increases/decreases density._

He also included general notes about Nijimura just in case—things he learned about Rainbow Thirteens that Akashi and the others had been surprisingly close-lipped about. (The Miracles, Mayuzumi gathered, did not like talking about the Rainbow Thirteens).

Then he called Hinamori Akane, who does not find it odd that Mayuzumi should be awake at 3 AM and is happy to take his calls after work. (Mayuzumi privately suspected that the woman never slept, or that she was ever “off work”). “I’m going on a road trip with a couple of friends,” he said, aware even before Nijimura had explained about the Pisces-line that phones and computers were not the most secure ways to impart information.

“Please check in regularly,” Akane said in her cool, professional demeanor. “I would worry about my poor kouhai, otherwise.”

“Naturally,” Mayuzumi said. It occurred to him then that Hinamori Akane was the only person Masaomi said he _knew_ wasn’t Legacy-line, and he wondered just what made Masaomi so confident. She was, after all, the most capable of Masaomi’s string of prodigies and ambitious employees.

“Chihiro-kun,” Akane said then, her voice toneless. “You are aware that you do not have to go on this trip, correct? If you would like to come home to Japan, I am sure you aunt and uncle would understand.”

“I will be fine, Senpai,” Mayuzumi replied. “I’m looking forward to it.” And the strange thing was, he was actually telling the truth. He _was_ kind of looking forward to the trip. In different ways, Nijimura and Kiyoshi both fascinated him.

“If you run out of money, do not hesitate to call me. I am sure that I can transfer funds right away.”

Mayuzumi snickered. He knew she was speaking in code— _call if you’re in danger_ —but considering Nijimura’s assertions that he would bankroll this trip, it was far more likely that if he ended up calling, it _would_ be for more money. “Roger that, Senpai.”

He’d hung up thinking about how much he admired her cool efficiency. He’d never been the type of student who bought in the whole “senpai-kouhai” dynamic and usually resented anyone who tried to mentor him.

But, all things considered, if this _did_ somehow end up being a career path for him, there were worse examples to follow than Hinamori Akane.

He was still far too awake after the discussion, so he spent the rest of his night making CDs for the road trip to get in the spirit of things.

*

Mayuzumi wakes up mildly suffocated. He also has a terrible crick in his neck, and it takes him a few sluggish moments to realize that he’s in a car, with two virtual strangers, driving to Colorado.

He looks at his watch and sees that he’s been sleeping for almost five hours. He blearily looks out the window and sees the tall, twisting cacti he’s only ever seen in movies and cartoons, and deduces they must be in Arizona. (That explains his suffocation—it’s hot as _balls_ in this car).

“You sleep like an angel,” Nijimura says from the front seat.

“Fuck you,” Mayuzumi replies, rubbing his eyes.

Nijimura just laughs, and Kiyoshi glances back. “Can you hand me some of the snacks behind my seat? I’m feeling snacky.”

“I’m feeling hungry,” Mayuzumi grumps, rifling through the bag Kiyoshi had tucked behind his seat. “Do you want chips or candy?”

“Both,” Kiyoshi replies, and Mayuzumi flings him the bag of cheetos and some red licorice.

“We’re not stopping for food until we stop for the night,” Nijimura warns. “So you get to make do with what’s back there.”

Mayuzumi eyes remaining assortment of chips, candy and energy drinks. “So, you didn’t think nutrition was important?”

“You are such an old man,” Nijimura laughs.

“Chips and candy are standard road trip supplies. It’s the rules,” Kiyoshi says solemnly.

“Ugh,” Mayuzumi complains, but he opens the bag of Ranch Doritos and starts munching. “And what exactly is your vendetta against stopping at a proper place for food?”

“I’m trip leader, so I get to make the rules,” Nijimura declares, “We’re going to need gas soon, so you can restock when we get to a station. But it’ll most likely be more of the same. Also, I sincerely hope you brought cash.”

“Yes, Golddigger, I remembered my dozens of moneybags.”

“Awesome, I knew we brought you for a reason.”

*

“Jesus _fuck_ ,” Mayuzumi swears when he gets out of the car. The suffocation in the car, he reflects, really had not properly prepared him for the suffocation outside of the car. Nothing could have prepared him for the heat—he has quite honestly never experienced anything like this before.

“Oh yeah, you’re from Kyoto, aren’t you?” Nijimura says, a tad sympathetically before he grins again at Mayuzumi’s suffering. “Well, at least it’s a dry heat.”

“Can we skip this state?” Mayuzumi groans. “I want to be somewhere else now.”

“Stop being a delicate flower,” Nijimura says, all previous sympathy gone. “Go inside and buy more snacks, it’ll have air conditioning.” Mayuzumi doesn’t need further prompting, he darts for the convenience store and Nijimura calls after him, “And tell the clerk we’re on pump two! Remember, you’re paying!”

*

Mayuzumi stares at the selection of non-junk related options in deep consternation. He’d wanted something a little more filling than chips, but it seemed like his only options were pretzels, nachos, and hot dogs of a dubious nature.

“There’s some sandwiches in the fridge,” Kiyoshi says, coming up from behind. “But you might be safer with the hot dog, to be honest.”

“You’ve acclimated quickly,” Mayuzumi says, eyeing him.

“I’ve been here for a few months now,” Kiyoshi points out.

“Still. You must like it here, since you’re not returning to Japan.”

Kiyoshi smiles wryly. “You’re still convinced I’m not fully healed yet?”

Mayuzumi eyes him. The careful hedging is something Masaomi would do. Ask a question like it’s something absurd, without actually denying the accusation. But maybe he’s just been working for Masaomi too long—seeing subterfuge when there isn’t any.

He returns his attention to the hot dogs. The hot dogs seem like they require more attention anyway.

The door jingles, signaling that someone else is walking into the store. Mayuzumi doesn’t look away from his selection of lunch, not until someone starts screaming.

Then he drops his hot dog and whirls around, only to be confronted by a grinning, freckled, blonde woman. “Hi,” she says, disarmingly, and then with whip-like reflexes she reaches out and grabs him by his bare arm.

Then his whole body feels like it’s on fire.

*

It is, hands down, the most pain Mayuzumi has ever felt in his life. It’s like a thousand bees had just stung him all at once, and those bees all had tasers attached to their stingers, and he’s writhing on the floor, barely conscious about what’s happening.

“Ah ah,” the woman says, “Not you, lover boy. We need you for bait. I mean, if you _want_ to do things the hard way, we can, but it’s soooo much easier when you’re standing upright.”

Mayuzumi is still convulsing on the floor—his body twitching with the aftershocks of pain as he tries to get a hold of his senses and see what’s happening. The blonde woman has a gun on Kiyoshi, who has his arms raised to the air in the stereotypical “stick ‘em up” position. Mayuzumi rolls his eyes towards the front of the store (not wanting to draw attention by moving his head, and also, not entirely sure he could move his head) and he sees a curly red-haired boy perched on the counter. The store clerk is passed out on the ground, and Mayuzumi’s willing to bet he must have been whammied with whatever hit Mayuzumi. The curly red-haired boy is _also_ armed, but he’s not pointing his gun just yet.

“How long do you think it will take for him to check up on you?” the woman says in a sing-song cadence. Her voice is different for some reason, and it takes Mayuzumi’s pain-addled brain to supply that she’s speaking with a different accent. British, he thinks. “Ten minutes! Twenty minutes? I hope not for your sake, love, I’m not that patient.”

“You’ve misunderstood something,” Kiyoshi says, in his own stilted English. “We’re not lovers—”

“No? Then do you think he won’t care if I just shoot you now? Ivan, what do you think? Do you think we should just shoot them both now?”

“Just say the word, Vy,” the redhead says, in yet another accented English. Russian, if Mayuzumi’s TV shows have provided him with accurate information.

“Hmmm, tempting. You guys have been driving _forever_. And Ivan has terrible taste in music, it was excruciating. I somewhat feel like I should kill one of you just on principle.” She kicks at Mayuzumi. “Maybe pretty boy here. He seems disposable.”

“No, don’t!” Kiyoshi cries. “Take me, but don’t hurt him.”

“Oh, darling, what makes you think I can’t hurt both of you?”

“ _Me.”_

The voice is cool, angry, and almost inhuman. Nijimura is there, standing in the doorway, and his fury is a visible thing.

*

“Put the gun down, Vy,” Nijimura commands.

The strangest thing is, Nijimura’s presence is clearly affecting the two strangers. They’re both drooping, struggling to keep their guns raised, as if they’re fighting against some invisible pressure.

Mayuzumi, on the other hand, is feeling much better. He stays on the ground, not moving, except to glance at what’s happening.

On closer inspection, Nijimura looks like he’s _radiating._ The air around him is distorted slightly, but not in a way that would be overtly noticeable unless you were standing right next to him. It dawns on Mayuzumi that Nijimura must be glowing, in that way that Akashi glows red when he uses his Absolute Order ability. Mayuzumi is slightly disappointed that Nijimura isn’t glowing rainbow.

Nijimura moves then—so quick Mayuzumi can barely follow his movements. He decks the red-haired man and has his gun in his hands pointing at the Russian so fast no one can react.

“Ah ah, anymore and lover boy here gets it,” Vy says, jabbing her gun at Kiyoshi for emphasis.

“Then Ivan dies,” Nijimura says calmly.

“Vanya is a soldier,” Vy says coldly. “He knows the risks.”

No one seems to know what they’re supposed to do after that. Vy has her gun on Kiyoshi and Nijimura has his gun on Ivan and Mayuzumi is taking very shallow breaths, pretending to be a phantom.

“Where are the rest of the Hunters?” Nijimura queries, his voice still taut, toneless. Practically unrecognizable from the man Mayuzumi had been traveling with. “The Scorpios always travel in packs, but I don’t sense any more of you around. Did they leave you?”

“We’re here to collect the right bait for the right prey,” Vy says, wincing through her vicious grin.

“So you two drew the short straw, then,” Nijimura says. “Either that, or they just don’t like you guys.”

“It was our honor to go after you!” Vy shouts, moving her gun to point at Nijimura, still with a vicelike grip around Kiyoshi’s neck. “I’ll just kill you now, monster.”

“Your touch is poison,” Nijimura says, a hint of mockery in his voice. “I’m not the monster here.”

“The Scorpio-line has a proud lineage that is thousands of years old, _freak_ ,” Vy snarls. “And _you_ are an abomination amongst abominations. Teiko was particularly perverted when they though _you_ up, creature. Your abilities are unnatural.”

“Thank you,” Nijimura says, provoking Vy further.

“We’re going to kill every last one of you nullification freaks, understand? We’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth, until there’s nothing left of your kind.”

“Teiko beat you to it,” Nijimura says mildly. “I’m the last of my kind.”

“Well then,” Vy sneers. “If that’s true, then there’s no more—”

At this point, Mayuzumi kicks her legs from underneath her.

*

“Can I go back to the Maji Burger now? Self-defense classes were not a requirement at the Maji Burger.”

Akane adjusted her glasses in that way that was distinctly reprimanding despite the fact that she didn’t say anything. They were both in one of the corporate gyms—in this case, a dojo, because apparently Akashi Industries has a dojo in every building—wearing the standard _gi_. Akane provided Mayuzumi with a white belt, and, he couldn’t help but note, she wore a black one. “Masaomi-san believes that all knowledge is worth having and feels particularly strongly about all his employees knowing at least a few basic maneuvers in self-defense.”

“I think that actually has some supremely disturbing connotations about this company, honestly,” Mayuzumi said.

“If you go through life never needing to use these skills, I will issue a personal apology for having wasted your time,” Akane said. “Now, begin.”

*

He is not, by any stretch of the imagination, skilled in jujitsu. Most of his “training” consisted of Hinamori Akane flinging him around the mat and making sure he knew how to fall and roll.

Mayuzumi kicks Vy’s legs from underneath her, and pretty much the only thing that does is provide Nijimura with the opportunity to _move._ In seconds, Nijimura’s completely immobilized both Ivan and Vy.

“Do it,” Vy spits, looking down at the barrel of her own gun. “There will be others. You will never be safe, monster.”

“Story of my life,” Nijimura says, cocking the gun.

“—yes, hi, there’s been a break-in at a gas station? I think they tasered the clerk. Yes, well, I’m not sure—”

“Who are you calling?” Nijimura demands, his attention never wavering from Vy.

“The police,” Mayuzumi says, hanging up.

“ _What?_ ” Both Vy and Nijimura yell.

“So I think we should get out of here now, don’t you?” Mayuzumi says, looking at Nijimura.

“Why on earth would you call the police?” Nijimura asks, a layer of menace in his voice.

“Because I think it’ll be funny for them to try and explain this to the authority,” Mayuzumi says mildly. “Kiyoshi, hand me some duct tape off the shelf, will you? Oh, _fine,_ we’ll leave some money to pay for it, stop looking at me like that.”

*

“Can you drive?” Nijimura demands as they escape to their car.

“Yes,” Mayuzumi says automatically, but then Nijimura flings the keys at him and he says, “Not in America! I’ve never driven on the other side of the road.”

“It’s the desert,” Nijimura snarls. “There’s only two roads, this way and the other way. As long as you can hit the gas and point the car in one direction, you’re good.” He climbs into the car on the passenger side and slams the door.

Mayuzumi and Kiyoshi share a helpless glance. But the cops will be here soon, so there’s not much room for hesitation. Kiyoshi climbs into back seat, and half a beat later, Mayuzumi climbs into the driver’s seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order of appearance:  
>   
> James "Jamie" O'Reilly was created by [howshouldiknowboutlife](https://howshouldiknowboutlife.tumblr.com)
> 
> Charlie Lancaster was created by [catielynnelove](http://catielynnelove.tumblr.com/), (Ao3 user [QueenofStarlight](http://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofStarlight/pseuds/QueenofStarlight)) 
> 
> Zane Monart was created by [allebooklover](https://allebooklover.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Marie White was created by [cordialcuddle](http://cordialcuddle.tumblr.com/), and in her character profile it was mentioned that she would need a friend to help her around, and I didn't have another character submission that would quite fit that role, so I decided to bring back Mari Hoshizou, who is one of my own, and special cookies to anyone who remembers where she first appeared =D
> 
> Once again, Vincent Gallagher belongs to [mist-me](https://mist-me.tumblr.com/) and Ryder Kade Stevens belongs to [I-don't-understand-anything-ever](https://i-dont-understand-anything-ever.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Vy DeMier was created by [mysenpaiisdead](http://mysenpaiisdead.tumblr.com/) (Ao3 user [TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath/pseuds/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath))
> 
> Ivan "Vanya" Vasil’yevich Simonov was created by [nofriggingclue](nofriggingclue.tumblr.com).
> 
> Thanks to everyone who submitted characters to appear in this story =D


	6. Interlude 3 ~ So We Do Not Burn ~

He spends his days with Generation Miracle, and at night he returns to the Rainbow Ward.

Miracle is a strange Generation, and at first, Shuuzou doesn’t like them at all. They were willing to kill their own, after all. You couldn’t trust a Generation like that.

Their Gold is not like Tsukasa. Tsukasa had been wise and all-knowing; this Gold is calculating and commanding. Their Red is definitely nothing like Chidori—Chidori laughed a lot, and blushed a lot, and cared about people; their Purple is petulant and lazy, not like Hisomu who was a bit of a masochist but looked after his friends.

Their Black is nothing like Noriko. Noriko who smiled and would disappear behind a screen of light and would sometimes kick you down a flight of stairs if it was for your own good. But Shuuzou doesn’t interact with the Black Miracle all that much. He’s afraid if he talks to the Black, then everyone will know what Tsukasa told him.

_There’s a Black they are trying to train like a Rainbow, but in doing so, they’re going to fail._

He keeps them in line, he offers guidance when he can, but he’ll never stop comparing them to King.

Also, it’s getting to be _too much_ just standing next to them. He is glad he doesn’t have to use his abilities on them often (they are all extraordinarily disciplined. Their Red and Gold both have strict command). He heard the Rainbow Miracle disciplined them often, and figures that guy really must have been insane.

*

“It is getting to be too much for you,” 62 says.

He lies in his cot, covering his eyes with one arm.

“Mmm just tired,” he mumbles. “It’s not so bad.”

She sits next to his cot, sitting neatly on her knees, back straight. “103, 104, and 105 are concerned for you,” she says.

“The triplets?” he says, opening his eyes. The three are standing a little past 62, staring at him with matching blank expressions.

“You should not call them that,” 62 says. In another person, her tone would be admonishing.

They didn’t know what triplets were, not until he explained it to them. They were two girls and a boy, and they had the same face; were made in the same batch. Not that anyone knew what siblings were, before Shuuzou told them.

But 62 is right. He shouldn’t call them that. It was because they called themselves _brother_ and _sister_ and _family_ that the scientists thought King should die.

“I’m fine,” he tells the younger kids, who don’t acknowledge the statement. They turn and look out the door, like they’re standing guard.

“You will not survive long, if you keep going on missions with Miracle.”

And _why_ would he want to survive? he thinks bitterly. “Why do you even care?”

62 stares at him blankly. They are all such blank creatures, he will never understand them. He didn’t want to think he was like them at all. (And you’re not, you’re _not_ , he tells himself. You’re a King first, a Rainbow second). It is because of them that the scientists can punish the Projects. Every time one of them is sent to Room 101, there is a Rainbow, standing by blankly, stopping their powers. Every time a Project is beaten, or whipped, or electrocuted, there is a Rainbow to keep them from fighting back, to make sure their will remains broken. Shuuzou can barely endure reining in Miracle—he can’t imagine standing next to so much punishment like a blank doll. How can they _bear_ it?

Seeing her face is so carefully blank makes him snap. He lurches forward and starts shouting at her.

“You _don’t_ care! You don’t care about anything! You’re the worst! All of you should just _die_ because you’re not even human! No wonder the other Projects hate us.”

Hot liquid stings his eyes and he rubs at the tears. Something waves in front of his face and it’s 104, one of the triplets. She holds an ice pack and a handkerchief out to him. He takes both, not meeting her gaze.

“I am sorry you are hurting, 65,” 104 says softly, her tone just as flat at 62’s. Then she returns to her siblings to stand at the door.

He holds the ice pack, not sure what to do with it, but feeling deeply ashamed.

“I shouldn’t be alive,” he says, feeling like all his senses are dulled. “I can’t believe I can talk to Miracle like it doesn’t matter that King is dead. I’m the worst.”

“We are cold,” 62 says softly. “And we must be cold so we do not burn.”

Shuuzou jolts, spilling some of the ice. But 62 is already standing up, and she and the triplets disappear. A few minutes later a guard walks by, but he finds nothing unusual about the way Shuuzou sits on his bed, staring at nothing.


	7. Chapter 4

Mayuzumi spent the first hour driving with white knuckles through the desert before he finally accepted that Nijimura was right—it was all flat road for miles. All he had to do was hit the gas pedal. If the model of Nijimura’s car had allowed it, he’d have just set it to cruise control.

Now, the sun has gone down, and it’s _dark._ Way darker than Mayuzumi can remember night ever being. He’s never been in a place with no streetlights, no city, no illumination at all except the occasional driver who dares driving on the other side of the road to pass by him.

Kiyoshi is passed out in the backseat, snoring lightly. The sound of his soft breathing is the only noise in the car. Nijimura is awake, has been awake this entire time, and creating what is possibly the most awkward silence in the history of awkward silences.

Nijimura sits upright, his back completely straight, and has barely moved at all during the long dark hours. He hasn’t spoken either, and it’s impossible to guess what he’s thinking.

On general principle, Mayuzumi doesn’t have a problem with awkward silence. If he had to choose between awkward silence and awkward small talk, he will choose silence every time. Which is largely why they’ve been sitting for hours without any background noise at all.

But it’s so dark in this desert; the darkness intensifies the silence of the car. He knows Nijimura is still angry, but the darkness compels him to break the silence.

“So are you just going to be pissy forever, or what?”

Nijimura snorts. “Thanks for your eloquent sensitivity.”

“Any time.”

Nijimura is still rigid—like a statue, tense and unyielding. Mayuzumi gets the feeling he’s trying very hard to keep himself composed out of caution that otherwise he might fall apart entirely.

“It was my fault,” Nijimura says, his voice still strained. “They wanted me because all freaks must die, and the Scorpios targeted him because of _me._ Just like _you_ did.”

“It’s not your fault they thought he was your boyfriend,” Mayuzumi offers.

“It _was_. Sometimes—there’s a guy at work who’s kind of a homophobic asshole, you see? So sometimes I tease him by flirting with Teppei—there must be a leak in Providence.”

“Possible, but not likely. You said you’d sense them if they were nearby, yeah?”

“They have human followers.”

Hm, well, _that_ was good to know. Mayuzumi files that away for later. For now, he just shrugs. “Get over it.”

“How easy for you to say,” Nijimura snaps.

“Well, sure. I never saw much point in wallowing in self-blame and guilt. It seems like a useless endeavor. It doesn’t actually accomplish anything. If you blame yourself for what other people do then it cheapens the guilt you should feel when you’re actually to blame.”

Nijimura doesn’t respond and the car is one again full of tense, angry silence.

He probably shouldn’t push it. He’s already prodded Nijimura more than he should. But he can’t stop himself and he has to break the silence once more.

“Does it hurt you when you use your abilities?”

He’s still concentrating on the road, immense blackness all around, like they’re surrounded by void. But he senses when Nijimura looks at him, although it would be impossible to guess what his expression is.

“ _Yes,_ ” Nijimura says, his voice hoarse and thick, like he’s been waiting for a very long time for someone to ask him the question, and an immense burden has just been taken off his shoulders.

“Every time?” Mayuzumi asks.

“Yes. Every time. It’s like being set on fire. It doesn’t matter how much time has passed. I’ve never gotten used to it.” Nijimura finally relaxes in his seat, some of the tension he’s been carrying since the Scorpios starts to fade. “How’d you know?”

Mayuzumi taps on the steering wheel. It’s not his style to be honest with anyone, even less so since he started working for Masaomi. But, he figures, after the day Nijimura’s had, he might as well. “My grandmother was in a car accident when she was younger. She broke her back and she never fully recovered. For as long as I knew her, she always moved very stiffly. She was scary as all fuck when I was a kid—quick to anger but very cool and contained all the other times. It was only later I found out she was in pain all the time. Every day of her life was intense agony. You reminded me of her.”

Nijimura makes a breathy sound—somewhere between a sigh and a snort. “You really _are_ too perceptive. No one else has ever noticed, did you know that? Not even the other Projects. And Miracle had some pretty observant folks. Although, in their defense, they never paid much attention to the Rainbows.”

“So it wasn’t just you?”

“Nope, it’s a very special quirk, reserved solely for the Rainbow Projects.” Nijimura’s tone is self-mocking, with an edge to it that is definitely reason to tread lightly.

Mayuzumi has never talked to Akashi about Teiko. He’s never asked him what it was like to be designed, and he doubts he’ll ever have that conversation. He knows a little bit about Teiko, solely because of information provided to him after he started working for Masaomi, and he knows enough that he can venture to say, “Did they _want_ it to hurt? The scientists?”

“No, it was fairly inconvenient, all things considered,” Nijimura says, and Mayuzumi is surprised he’s talking about it at all. “But it was apparently too complicated to figure out how to fix that. And why bother? We worked the way they wanted us to, so they didn’t need to waste manpower trying to fix something that wasn’t a problem.

“So they didn’t stop the pain. It was much, much, easier to stop everything else. Stop our emotions, our desires, our empathy, our sense of free will; the other Rainbows were like robots—you could never tell if they were angry or happy. They were just—blank. Unfeeling and blank.”

“Like Kuroko,” Mayuzumi says, slightly resentful of Nijimura’s depiction. He wasn’t the most expressive guy either, and he’s never been good at forming connections with people. And it was a sensitive subject for him all around. _You’re so unfeeling. You’re not even human._ He pushes the memory away.

“Exactly like Kuroko. They tried to train him to be what they’d built into the Rainbows. They operated under similar theories, too. Cause enough pain, and the inconvenient emotions will just go away.”

Mayuzumi’s not entirely sure what that means for Kuroko. Nothing good, probably. “Why are you different?”

Nijimura falls silent. Probably, Mayuzumi thinks, he’s finally found a question that Nijimura doesn’t want to answer.

“King,” he says, surprising Mayuzumi once again. “My Generation. We were built differently. We had a psychic bond with each other. And we shared our pain. Whatever I felt, they all felt. Our pain was everyone’s pain. I’m different because of that bond.”

Mayuzumi knows better than to ask what happened to Nijimura’s Generation. He knows there’s nothing left of Teiko.

“I felt it when they died,” Nijimura says softly, causing Mayuzumi to wince because it turns out he really _hadn’t_ wanted to know. “When Teiko killed them, I felt it like they were killing me. Sometimes I still feel it.”

There is absolutely nothing Mayuzumi can say to that. Any attempt at sympathy would just sound hollow and pathetic.

“The other Rainbows,” Nijimura starts and then stops. He’s looking out into the darkness now. There’s nothing to see, not unless he can see in the dark (and who knows, maybe he can). “They probably felt more, too. They were burning on the inside. I was never fair to them. Every day they obediently followed Teiko’s orders, knowing how much pain it would be. I live in another country than the only people left from my past because I don’t want to feel that pain again. And just my luck, the Legacy-line exists.”

“So why do it?” Mayuzumi asks, “Why use your abilities at all?”

“Oh, so I should have let the Scorpios keep torturing you?”

“Well, you could have,” Mayuzumi says. And then it’s too much for him, all of the sudden. The darkness, the silence, the confessions. He needs to distance himself from all of that. “Although, I feel it should be noted that you clearly knew what the Scorpio-line could do before and failed to mention them.”

Nijimura huffs slightly but he doesn’t have the same edge as he did before. “Yeah, the resident Freak Hunters. They like killing EVOs. But then, you didn’t tell me everything _you_ knew either, now did you?”

“No, but since my withholding didn’t just try to kill us, I still have the moral high ground.”

Nijimura cackles, and finally Mayuzumi feels like he can breathe again. “Fair. Hey, pull over at the next exit, will you? There’s a motel.”

“I’ll try, but that’s more involved than driving in a single direction. If we all crash and die just know it’s your fault.”

“I’ll try not to wallow in the useless endeavor of guilt,” Nijimura says, and Mayuzumi smirks as he tries to navigate turning.

*

Despite the fact that he’s exhausted, he doesn’t get much sleep in the dingy motel. He’s never been a fan of western style beds, for one thing, and the room looks like a place someone could be murdered in, for another.

He updates his notebook and checks his email. There’s an email from a dummy account he associates with Masaomi. Mayuzumi wasn’t supposed to contact Masaomi electronically but he’d had to text Akane about getting the mess at the gas station cleared up.

After he sends a quick update (and also adds: _Scorpio – intense pain with touch (hurts like a bitch!!)_ to his list of Legacy lines), he finally lies down. Kiyoshi was still half-asleep and lost the rock paper scissors so he and Niimura are passed out in one bed and Mayuzumi claims the other. (Nijimura, Mayuzumi had declared, didn’t get a choice about sharing a bed, because he hadn’t warned them about the Scorpios. Nijimura just rolled his eyes so Mayuzumi didn’t feel bad at all about exploiting his lingering guilt).

Finally, Mayuzumi sleeps.

*

“I hate everything,” Mayuzumi says.

“The food is better than it looks,” Nijimura says, far too perky this early in the morning. “I’ll take my hashbrowns smothered and covered,” he tells the waitress with a bright smile. And then he starts humming a jaunty tune that makes their waitress roll her eyes.

“Heard that one like a thousand times,” she says.

She collects the rest of their order—Nijimura and Kiyoshi both order an obscene amount of food, each more bizarre sounding than the next (biscuits and gravy, chocolate chip waffles, hashbrowns; covered, smothered, diced, and sliced. It’s almost like an incantation).

Mayuzumi orders coffee and reiterates the fact that he hates everything.

“Lighten up, Chihiro,” Nijimura says. “You can’t road trip in America without stopping at a Waffle House at least once. It’s the rule.”

“We take road tripping very seriously,” Kiyoshi agrees solemnly.

“So do we have any kind of game plan for the rest of the trip?” Mayuzumi asks. “Or are we just going to keep driving blind?”

Nijimura sobers, perhaps still  feeling guilty from what happened yesterday. “I have some contacts in New Mexico who can give us the exact location of the rebel base—”

“Wait, you didn’t _know_ that?”

“I know it’s in Colorado! And meeting up with my contacts was always part of the plan.”

Mayuzumi refuses to react to that. It would be too predictable. “Is that why we’re taking the longest possible route to Colorado imaginable? Because we needed to go to New Mexico first?”

“That’s just because I want to prolong the pleasure of your company,” Nijimura says coyly.

“Can we take a plane now? The Legacy-line is tracking us anyway,” Mayuzumi says, refusing to take the bait.

“They weren’t tracking us, they were tailing us since LA,” Nijimura says. “Once they lost our trail, they won’t be able to find us again.”

“You knew they were trailing us?” For once, the incredulous question comes from Kiyoshi.

“I saw their car but I didn’t think—look, when there’s only one road going one direction for miles, it’s a little hard to gauge whether or not someone is trailing you or just going in the same direction, OK? I’ll be more careful next time.”

It’s a bit unfortunate that of the three of them, Nijimura is the only one with military training. Mayuzumi has just enough time to regret not taking Vincent and Ryder with him after all, before he feels appalled that this line of thinking has become so natural to him.

“You know what, I’m revoking your status as trip leader. You’ve made too many poor decisions,” Mayuzumi says. “From now on, I’m picking the music.”

“Good luck finding a station out here,” Nijimura scoffs.

Mayuzumi smiles a particularly vicious smile. “Oh, no worries. I made CDs before we left.”

*

“Dear God, is this _entire_ album filled with anime Openings and Endings?”

“Why, yes, yes it is. I also have two more discs.”

“You’re a sadist.”

“You know, you’re not the first person to tell me that.”

*

It’s raining in New Mexico.

The _entirety_ of New Mexico.

Either that, or the storm is following them. It had been so hot in Arizona, the cold and the rain and the gusty winds seem impossible. It’s hard to believe he’s in the same country. But perhaps it’s only difficult to believe because he’s never traveled the length of his own nation before.

They stop at a Best Western for the night, Mayuzumi insisting on something of a slightly higher quality. When the clerk gives him a funny look when he hands her cash he realizes there were certain advantages to the indifference of shady establishments in small-town Arizona. Paying in cash is probably unusual in most places. He speaks in deliberately broken English and random non sequiturs in Japanese and she nods, satisfied that he must be a tourist.

Nijimura disappears to find his mysterious contacts. “They won’t come if you guys are with me,” he explains, and then darts off into the night with their only transportation.

“That’s a bit disconcerting,” Mayuzumi remarks, not liking that he’s been essentially abandoned in a random city in New Mexico.

“Not particularly,” Kiyoshi says. “You’re the one with all the money.”

“True,” Mayuzumi brightens.

*

Of course, now this means he’s alone in a hotel room with the guy he’d been manipulating for his own ulterior motives. He doesn’t expect that to be as strange as it is—it is distinctly odd to think that Nijimura has become a reliable buffer. Probably because there’s not any guilt with his interactions with Nijimura—they were both hiding things from each other.

“Sorry,” he finally says, because he decides he doesn’t want to be a complete jerk. “About the whole—lying thing.”

“Oh, that’s not—I was keeping things from you, too, after all.” Kiyoshi looks genuinely flustered by Mayuzumi’s apology.

“Yeah, but only because Nijimura asked you to. We both got you involved.”

“I’m not a princess,” Kiyoshi says, his tone verging on irritable. “I know what I was getting into. There’s no reason you and Shuuzou need to—”

He breaks off but Mayuzumi doesn’t let him off the hook. “Nijimura is the guilty type. I’m not going to beat myself up over it, I just figured I’d apologize. Although, you could have spoken up last night. You didn’t have to keep pretending you were asleep.”

Kiyoshi grimaces. “You knew?”

“Your breathing patterns changed.”

“I wasn’t—I wasn’t _pretending_. I was asleep. I just, sort of woke up when Shuuzou started talking. I was sort of asleep and sort of awake. I wasn’t trying to listen in, I really was tired—”

“Sure, sure, I believe you,” Mayuzumi says. “It’s OK.” He _does_ believe him. He’s been in that near-conscious state where you’re awake enough to know what’s happening but not awake enough to participate in conservations.

And besides. He thinks he has Kiyoshi’s measure now. He’s an honest guy, but occasionally he’s dishonest in an honest way. He probably always feels guilty about it too. What an exhausting state to be in.

“But you’re right. You haven’t been honest with me either. In that case, I revoke my apology.”

He’s just baiting him now, and Kiyoshi responds easily with, “I’ve never _directly_ lied to you.”

“You lied about why you’re staying in America,” Mayuzumi says, not missing a beat.

“Shuuzou _told_ you?”

“No, I’m just not an idiot. When would he have told me? You’ve been with us the entire time.”

Kiyoshi flushes a bright red, and he looks wretched. Enough that Mayuzumi starts to feel bad again.

“I’m in love with the same girl as my best friend,” Kiyoshi says defiantly.

“Oh,” Mayuzumi says. “That’s bullshit.”

“Wh-what?” Kiyoshi says, hurt and outraged.

“I’m calling bullshit,” Mayuzumi says, once again thinking that he’s been around Masaomi too long. “Is she your best friend’s fiancé? Are they even dating? No? Then no one in the _world_ would flee to _another country_ because of just that.”

“You don’t know me,” Kiyoshi says, his voice flat.

There’s just enough of an edge to his voice that it reminds Mayuzumi that Kiyoshi went head-to-head with Nebuya Eikichi _and_ Murasakibara Atsushi and fought them on even footing. In terms of brute strength, Kiyoshi is clearly superior to Mayuzumi’s own, paltry muscles.

“You’re right. I don’t,” Mayuzumi acknowledges. “But I know you’re an athlete with a strong sense of fair play. If you and your best friend liked the same girl and there was no prior relationship anywhere, I have a hard time believing you wouldn’t just man up and let the girl choose between you.”

“It might ruin our friendship,” Kiyoshi protests.

“Ah. Whereas moving across the world preserves the friendship nicely. Yes, I see your logic.”

Kiyoshi’s fists clench. Not in a precursor to hitting (hopefully), but like someone who’s feeling angry and cornered. (So maybe there will be hitting. Mayuzumi is glad he’s not standing near Kiyoshi. He inches closer to the door, just in case).

Abruptly, the tension drains. Kiyoshi sighs and then just smiles wryly. “Yeah. You’re right. And I’m sorry for underestimating you, Mayuzumi-san. You’re an interesting guy.”

Mayuzumi really wishes people would stop saying that. But at least he’s not going to be hit after all.

“I’m in love with my best friend.”

Mayuzumi looks up, surprised only by the fact that Kiyoshi is speaking at all. Kiyoshi meets his gaze straight on, making it clear that he _chose_ this confession. He wasn’t pushed into this. “So, not the girl?”

“No,” Kiyoshi says, smiling bitterly. “Her too. I’m in love with both of them.”

“OK,” Mayuzumi says. If Kiyoshi thinks he can shock him with his potentially salacious confessions, he really has no idea what it’s like to be a Rakuzan regular. Mayuzumi has lost all ability to be shocked by sex a long time ago. “Ask them both out, then. What’s the big deal?”

This is decidedly not the reaction Kiyoshi is expecting. “Are you _joking?_ ”

“No?” Mayuzumi says. “Mind you, my knowledge of how polyamorous relationships work is strictly theoretical, but I’ve read a lot of interesting articles. I could find you some links, if you’d like—”

“It isn’t funny,” Kiyoshi says, sounding angry again.

“And I’m not joking? It’s not a conventional relationship, I’ll grant you, but it’s not all that unusual.” He stops talking once he realizes just how tormented Kiyoshi is by this, and then he curses himself for his own tactlessness.

He tries again. “You know it’s OK, right? You’re—you’re _allowed_.”

Kiyoshi’s fists are clenched again, and his jaw is so tight it looks like it must hurt. He’s not looking at Mayuzumi when he says, “So I just tell them that? Let’s all date each other. Let’s all go on dates and kiss, the three of us, because I’m sure that will be just fine to onlookers. No one will bat an eye.

“And I’ll just tell my grandparents, then—the kind man and woman who took me in, that I want to date a girl _and_ a boy at the same time and is it OK if they come over for dinner sometime? Don’t worry, grandma, grandpa, it’s _allowed_.”

It’s the most vicious Mayuzumi has ever heard him be. The bitterness and agony is painful to hear. Mayuzumi keeps silent because he has no idea what he’s supposed to say. It’s not like he could say anything that would make it better.

“There isn’t a happy ending, don’t you see? Even _if_ I could somehow ask them both out, there’s no scenario where we could all be together the way I want.”

“It would be harder,” Mayuzumi acknowledges. “But not _impossible._ ”

Kiyoshi glares at him. “Would _you_ ever date two people at the same time?”

This was one of those awkward questions that were almost impossible to answer honestly.

“I’m not opposed to it, in theory,” Mayuzumi says. But that’s not good enough. The guy just ripped open his soul to bare it to Mayuzumi; the least Mayuzumi can do is return the favor. “I’m asexual, so I _personally_ wouldn’t be dating anyone, ever, but if it was theoretically an option, and if there were two hypothetical people I wanted to be with, I wouldn’t be opposed to polyamory.”

“You’re asexual?” Kiyoshi says.

He sounds confused, so Mayuzumi feels the need to explain, “I don’t experience sexual attraction.”

“Oh.” There is a beat. “Lucky.”

It’s the kind of response that usually bugs the crap out of Mayuzumi when he tells people about his sexuality. _Oh, how lucky! I wish I could be like you!_ But Kiyoshi sounds so earnest and Mayuzumi thinks about how Kiyoshi’s own sexual desires caused him to flee the country, and all things considered, Kiyoshi probably _would_ remove his desire, if he could. So Mayuzumi lets it slide.

“Yes, well, I’ve always thought so.” Which was true. Romance sounded like nothing but unending headaches. If he had to choose, he would choose asexuality every time. “I’m not trying to be a jerk. For once. But you can’t keep going like this. You’re miserable.”

Kiyoshi falls silent, like a man who maybe thinks he deserves to be miserable.

This is not the kind of person Mayuzumi is. The heart-to-heart kind of guy. And if he didn’t feel so impossibly bad for the guy he’d stop this whole conversation right now.

“There’s a lot of wrong ways to love someone,” Mayuzumi says slowly, and Kiyoshi winces. “No, listen, there are a lot of wrong ways to love someone, but this isn’t one of them. You want all three of you to be happy together, and that’s not wrong.”

“And out of curiosity, what is your definition of the wrong kind of love?”

Mayuzumi looks down. “Any kind where only one person gets to be happy.” The sincerity and seriousness are too much for him so he shrugs. “Or, you know, anything that involves children or lack of consent. But I’m assuming you know that.”

“Thanks,” Kiyoshi says. But then a few seconds pass and he says in a different tone of voice, “Thank you.”

“This was a one time thing,” Mayuzumi warns. “I am not being your asexual love guru. I get enough of that with Akashi. The irony alone is too much to bear.”

“But you give such very good advice,” Kiyoshi says reassuringly. “You could be a therapist.”

“No, nope, we’re done sharing now,” Mayuzumi says, and he lies down on the bed and promptly decides he is done with human interactions for the night.

*

At night, he listens to the rain.

Nijimura isn’t back yet and Mayuzumi wonders if he should be concerned.

He keeps thinking about Uchida Saori. That’s probably why he’s having a hard time sleeping now. Thinking about Saori always agitated him so much that sleep was impossible. In some ways, it’s Saori’s fault that he’s in a random hotel in New Mexico, listening to the rain. Because Saori is the reason he agreed to change his style of basketball in order to be the player Akashi wanted.

Saori was the reason for a lot of things, he thinks idly. They’d grown up together, the stereotypical childhood best friends. And in middle school she said, “I love you, Chihiro. We should date,” and he had said, “Dear God, no.”

He’d had to explain then, that he didn’t want to date anyone. Saori’s response was to ask, “Are you gay?” And Mayuzumi had to think about it as a serious possibility before he could say, quite honestly, “No. I really don’t want to kiss or date anyone.”

“You can’t,” she said. “You’ll want to fall in love someday. Don’t you want to get married?”

She hadn’t quite understood him when he said no, he was pretty sure he didn’t. Just like she hadn’t fully understood when he’d said he wasn’t gay. He was fairly certain, even in middle school, that if he’d had any desires towards the same sex he’d be self-aware enough to admit that; but he fundamentally did not want to kiss anyone. She kept trying to find an explanation— _did someone molest you as a child? Is there some sort of trauma?_ —and had to back down when he said, _God, Saori, you were_ there _when I was a child_ — _did I seem traumatized to you?_ They’d seen each other almost every day when they were children; she knew his parents, most of his relatives. Even she had to concede there wasn’t some defining moment for why he didn’t want to date people. The Mayuzumi then was very much the Mayuzumi now.

They weren’t as close after that. And by the time they were in high school, they were barely acquaintances. She started hanging out with the popular crowd and he started eating lunch on the roof, where he could read in peace.

And if her ex-boyfriend hadn’t started stalking her, they would have never had anything to do with each other again. But Hayashi did stalk her. Mayuzumi watched her grow thinner, watched her cover up the bruises on her face and arms, watched her have hysterics in class for seemingly no reason, watched all her friends whisper behind her back that she was going insane.

Finally, he had to say something. “Why don’t you tell the teachers what Hayashi is doing?”

Saori flinched, and didn’t deny it. “I tried. They don’t do anything.”

“He’s hurting you,” Mayuzumi said.

“He loves me,” she said bitterly. “And I should be flattered and not so stuck up.”

She turned to him suddenly. She’d tried to kiss him but she was so shocked he tripped and fell down. She followed him down, grabbing his shirt. “Chihiro, can’t you help?”

 _“How?!”_ he said, incredulous, and still dismayed by the attempted kiss.

“Just—be my boyfriend. In name only! To make him stop. Or—beat him up, or _something_. Just get him to leave me alone.”

She started sobbing, and Mayuzumi couldn’t do anything at all. He was completely frozen. “I can’t. Saori, there’s nothing _I_ can do. I’m not—”

She got up then, pushing at him violently. “You’re so unfeeling. You’re not even human.”

“Saori!” he called after her, but she left. He didn’t try to chase after her because there really wasn’t anything he could have done.

A red-haired mutant asked him to change his style of basketball after that. And he said, “I have my pride,” but really the truth was he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to be a regular, he didn’t play basketball to be a star.

But then that same red-haired mutant Ordered Hayashi away. Mayuzumi was there when it happened, because Akashi had done it during gym for Mayuzumi’s class. “You are not to go anywhere near the girl again,” Akashi had Ordered. “You are not to address her in anyway. And if I hear you harassing any young woman again, I will hurt you, understand?”

It hadn’t occurred to Mayuzumi to ask Akashi for help, even though he’d Ordered away that flasher who’d been harassing the First Year students. Maybe if he _had_ asked Akashi to help, he wouldn’t feel so much like he owed him. But Akashi had voluntarily done what Mayuzumi could not, so after that, Mayuzumi agreed to be a starter. He’d even read a book on misdirection in magician’s tricks, just to understand Kuroko better.

And now he’s here. In a hotel, listening to the rain.

*

His phone rings, which he’s not expecting. It’s not a number he recognizes, which usually means it’s Masaomi. But Masaomi wouldn’t be calling him; that was _his_ rule.

“Hello?” he says in English, as a gamble.

“Hi!” Nijimura says brightly. “So, funny story. I’ve been kidnapped. Can you please bring some ransom money?”

“Oh Lord,” Mayuzumi says.

“It’s nothing serious,” Nijimura rushes in with, “You don’t need to call in the cavalry or anything. My contacts just feel they should be compensated. Which I 100% agree with! I’m totally willing to pay anything they want—”

“You mean you’re willing to let me pay for whatever they want,” Mayuzumi says.

“—same thing. But they don’t trust me not to leave. So. Can you and your money come get me?”

*

Mayuzumi gets out of the cab and scowls at the rain. He really doesn’t like getting wet.

He immediately heads to the warehouse—which certainly _looks_ like the place for a ransom drop—and wonders if maybe he should have called Akane after all.

(Nijimura had sounded so chipper on the phone that Mayuzumi felt like he was telling the truth about not actually being in danger. But he’d left a note and a phone number for Kiyoshi to call, if Kiyoshi woke up and they still weren’t back yet).

A knife to the throat greets him as he walks inside.

“Hi,” says a low voice in his ear, “I hope you have money.”

“Haruka!” another voice chides, and Mayuzumi sees her first—a short, sweet-looking girl with blonde hair and honey brown eyes. She has a blue ribbon tying her hair back and looks for all the world like she belongs in a high school. “Don’t be mean.”

“Not being mean,” the one Mayuzumi assumes must be Haruka drapes her arm over Mayuzumi’s shoulders in a friendly sort of way. “Just getting to the point. You don’t think I’m being mean, do you, Mr. Mayuzumi?”

She has straw colored hair and unsettling silver eyes, but she’s smiling a friendly enough way, despite the fact that she’s still holding a knife (even if it isn’t pointed at Mayuzumi anymore).

Her arms are loose enough that Mayuzumi could slip out if he wanted to, or at least, the hold is  loose enough to make him _think_ he could get away. Something tells him not to try like he had with Vy, though. He suspects these girls aren’t going to underestimate him like the Scorpios had.

“No, but it is a bit rude to cut the small talk out entirely,” Mayuzumi says blithely. “You could have at least asked me about the weather.”

“How is the weather?” asks the short blonde one promptly.

“Terrible,” Mayuzumi replies. “Aren’t you all a little young to be in the extortion business?”

“Extortion is such an ugly word,” the shorter one says.

“But accurate,” Haruka says, still hanging onto Mayuzumi. “Did you bring the money?”

“I did, but you were a little unclear on how much you wanted,” Mayuzumi says. “Also, Nijimura, is there a reason why you aren’t talking? You don’t look gagged.”

“You were doing so fine on your own,” Nijimura says modestly from his position of being tied to a chair. A third girl stands next to him, clearly on guard. She hasn’t said anything this entire time, just watched with vaguely vacant blue eyes. She’s very pretty, with long dark hair that gives her a typical yamato nadeshiko look that Mayuzumi has always appreciated in a purely aesthetic sort of way.

“So you’re not strapped to a bomb or something?” Mayuzumi asks.

“Not that I know of,” Nijimura says.

“We would never hurt Shuuzou,” the short blonde one says earnestly. Mayuzumi is willing to bet she’s the leader, based off the way the other two lock onto her position. “He’s an old friend of ours. I’m Riku, and Haruka you’ve met, and that’s Reiko keeping Shuuzou company.”

“Very pleased to meet you,” Mayuzumi says. “I would introduce myself, but you clearly already know about me.”

“Oh yes, Shuuzou has told us all about you.”

“Like the fact that you’re loaded,” Haruka says cheerfully.

“That wasn’t what I said!” Nijimura protests when Mayuzumi glares at him. “I said you worked for Akashi Industries, and they extrapolated the loaded part all on their own.”

“So, if it’s alright, we would like a million dollars now,” Riku smiles.

“Ha!” Mayuzumi barks out, getting a better feel for their dynamic now. Nijimura clearly doesn’t think of them as enemies, otherwise he would have tried to get away on his own. “So would I. I wouldn’t need to work if I had that kind of cash lying around. Unfortunately, while I am paid far too well considering I am a proud self-declared unambitious slacker, I’m not paid _that_ well. I can give you $500.”

“Your boss has that kind of money,” Riku says, smiling and not missing a beat.

“And I certainly _could_ get him involved, but it would be far too time consuming, and you wouldn’t see any money for at least a week. I’m assuming you’re interested in a more immediate cash flow?” Mayuzumi bluffs.

“Fine,” Riku says wistfully. “$10,000.”

“Still more than I brought with me,” Mayuzumi. It was technically _all_ he’d brought with him, and he’s rather not completely deplete their funds in one go. Besides...“I’m not sure it’s worth it. You’re just giving us the coordinates, right? That’s like, $1,000, tops.”

“And the safe return of your friend,” Haruka points out.

“Twelve hundred for the coordinates and you can keep Nijimura.”

“Hey!”

“8,000,” Riku says.

“6,000 is really my final offer.”

Riku considers this and then nods. “Yes, OK. Rei?”

Reiko obediently releases Nijimura, who immediately rubs his wrists and glares at the girl. “Not cool. Is that anyway to treat someone who is _practically_ family?”

Reiko shrugs and says slowly, “ _They’re_ my family.”

“I know,” Nijimura says, smiling fondly.

Haruka finally lets go as Mayuzumi starts bringing out the cash. “So what’s with you two, anyway? I’ve never known Shuuzou to travel with anyone. Are you two dating?”

“I’m super asexual,” Mayuzumi says, tired enough that honesty just slips out as he hands off the cash, “And he costs too much money anyhow.”

Haruka cackles. “Fair enough.”

*

After the business of counting out the money and writing down the coordinates is finished, there is rather lengthy and _familial_ good-bye exchange between Nijimura and his supposed kidnappers.

Riku tilts her head and says, “Have you ever been to Veracruz?”

“In Mexico?” Nijimura says. “No, can’t say that I have. I lived in Tijuana for a bit but never went souther than that.”

“I think you should go sometime.”

“Why?” he says, sounding amused.

She shrugs. “Just a thought I had.”

“The offer still stands, you know,” Nijimura says.

Riku’s smile is fragile and painful to see. “We know, Shuuzou. But it’s OK. We don’t need you to save us.” And they disappear into the rain.

Mayuzumi climbs into the passenger seat and slams the door.

“Well, that was productive!” Nijimura says cheerfully as he gets into the car and buckles in. “Thanks for rescuing me, Chihiro.”

Mayuzumi doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t know you’re asexual, that’s cool! Are you also aromantic?” Mayuzumi stares at him. “Because there’s a difference, you know, if you’re aromantic, you—”

“I know,” Mayuzumi says curtly. “And yes. Although I personally feel making the differentiation is stupid.”

“Well, it’s not, not really, it makes a fair amount of sense—”

“Once I’ve said I’m asexual that is not an invitation for you to _interrogate me about my dating history._ ”

The car is once again filled with an awkward silence. Nijimura’s mood shifts as he says, “You’re mad at me.”

Mayuzumi snorts. “Brilliant deduction.”

“In my defense, it’s very difficult to read you.”

“Will you start the car already?” Mayuzumi snaps.

“No,” Nijimura says calmly. “You’re mad and we still have a long way to drive tomorrow and I don’t believe in road tripping with people who are mad at me.”

“Fine. Then I’ll find my own way to Colorado.” Mayuzumi starts opening the door but Nijimura grabs his wrist to stop him from leaving. He has a strong grip, which is not surprising at all.

“Chihiro, don’t be stupid. Just talk to me. I’m _sorry,_ but I can’t apologize properly if you don’t tell me what I did—”

“I don’t like being manipulated,” Mayuzumi snaps. “And I’m not your personal bank, no matter _what_ you might think.”

“You mad because you had to pay them?” Nijimura says incredulously.

Mayuzumi slams the car door again because he doesn’t like getting wet. “Alright, let’s spell this out for you. I am not an idiot. You clearly knew them, and on fairly good terms. You _could_ have gotten away from them on your own, I have a hard time believing they could have tied you down without your consent. If you want money just _say so,_ preferably _before_ leaving the hotel instead of dragging me out in the middle of the night and staging a fucking _production._ ”

Nijimura absorbs this quietly. Mayuzumi is shaking slightly because he is _furious._

He knows what the Rakuzan regulars thought. He knows what every player that ever faced Rakuzan thought about him. They thought he was Akashi Seijuurou’s pawn, his stage-hands puppet who gave up his own style of play to fit Akashi’s needs. And that was all true but _he chose to do so._ Like now. Masaomi sent him on this stupid mission but Mayuzumi _agreed_. He has never objected to being someone’s pawn, but only if he’s agreed to it.

“Reiko has a Rainbow heart,” Nijimura says quietly. “The one advantage I have when faced with superpowered beings is that I can nullify their abilities. But that doesn’t work so well if they’re used to Rainbows.”

Mayuzumi gives him a _long_ glance, because he’s still not buying it.

“Riku has Gold in her and Haruka is a Silver—a Silver that was made from Blue, Purple, and Orange. They’re really _not_ people you can underestimate. But yes. I did want to pay them and I didn’t fight them seriously. And I should have told you from the start that I wanted to pay them so I _am_ sorry. I won’t do it again.”

“No. You won’t.” Mayuzumi puts his hand back on the car door handle because he is so done with this bullshit. He has the coordinates, he doesn’t need Nijimura anymore.

“They’re not free,” Nijimura says quickly, startling Mayuzumi once again.

“What?”

“They’re not free. They didn’t escape when the Second Teiko was discovered like the other kids did, they’d already been sold. Some other organization owns them now. Some American company that likes buying superpowered humans and very much enjoys having them do all their dirty work.”

“ _What?_ That’s—what’s the name of the company? Masaomi needs to know.”

“They said they don’t want to be saved,” Nijimura says. “You heard them. I’ve wanted to help them for years but it’s no good.”

“Masaomi still needs to know,” Mayuzumi says.

“How do you that he doesn’t?”

The question is enough to give him pause. Because surely Masaomi would at least know they existed. He’d known about the Legacy after all, despite the fact that they didn’t have a digital presence. But he must not know about the kids. _That_ Mayuzumi feels confident about. Masaomi is an asshole, but he doesn’t like it when people hurt children.

“He can help,” Mayuzumi repeats.

“When we get back I’ll give you all the information I have,” Nijimura say.

“ _All_ covers quite a lot of ground.”

“I will tell you everything I know,” Nijimura says, his gaze and tone heavy and solemn. He knows exactly what he’s agreeing to and _damn it_ he knows Mayuzumi can’t walk away from an offer like that.

This really only pisses Mayuzumi off even further because he’s still being manipulated but there’s no way out this time. He really wants that information.

“Deal.” He relaxes into the seat, making it clear with his stance that he’s not about to jump out of the car. “Now let go of me.”

Nijimura looks down at his own hand like he’d completely forgotten he was still holding onto Mayuzumi. “Sorry.” He starts the car, finally, and heads back to the hotel.

“Why did they all have Japanese names?” Mayuzumi asks idly, since he’d been wondering. “They didn’t particularly look Japanese.”

“Hm? Oh, those three? No idea. They change their names every time I see them.”

“Oh, OK,” Mayuzumi says.

“I used to do that,” Nijimura says, off-hand.

“Change your name?”

“Yeah, when I first escaped. I kept picking up different last names. I understood that people were supposed to have two names but I didn’t make the connection between ethnicity and family names. I was going by Shuuzou Hernandez for the longest time, and didn’t understand why people kept looking at me funny.”

Mayuzumi smiles, despite the fact that he was still a little irritated. “Always ‘Shuuzou’ though?”

“Yeah,” Nijimura says, sobering. “My Generation picked names for ourselves. We were the only ones that ever did.”          

And Teiko hadn’t liked that, Mayuzumi was guessing.

“How long have you been ‘Nijimura?’”

“Since the Miracles escaped and picked names for themselves. They were all picking things like _Murasaki_ bara and _Kuro_ ko and _Ki_ se, so I just figured, Nijimura would be appropriate, and it finally stuck.”

They’re almost back to the hotel when Nijimura says, “So you really should call me Shuuzou. It’s the only name that ever felt like mine.”

Mayuzumi doesn’t say anything.

*

Colorado is incredibly green and Mayuzumi is so done with this country. It makes no sense. After all this, he’s decided he’s not a fan of travel.

The car ride had been subdued but not uncomfortable. Kiyoshi seemed to recognize that something had happened the night before but he doesn’t press the issue.

“So do you have a game plan?” Mayuzumi asks. “Or are we just going to stroll around once we get there and strike up random conversation. ‘Hey, you, are _you_ a rebel in an ancient line of whackos with superpowers?’”

“That could be a good opening line for you to try,” Nijimura says, “Let me know if it works.”

“For _me_ to try?” Mayuzumi repeats.

“Well, obviously, I told you _I_ can’t be the first to meet them, they wouldn’t trust me.”

“And between me and Kiyoshi, I’m the more expendable one?” Mayuzumi asks.

“No, between you and Teppei, you’re more resistant.”

Mayuzumi raises both his brows.

“Some people are, you know,” Nijimura says casually. “They’re slightly resistant to people with superpowers—”

“Yes, I know,” Mayuzumi interrupts. “They have the R1-HK1 gene and it produces a resistancy to psychic abilities. And yes, I do have it. Masaomi had me tested.”

“Oh what the _fuck_ ,” Nijimura says, exasperated. “The _what_ gene?”

“R1-HK1.”

“Since when is that a thing?”

“Since about six months ago, when Masaomi discovered it. He said he looked for it first so he got to name it.”

“That is how science works,” Kiyoshi says, intrigued.

“It’s essentially useless,” Mayuzumi says. “‘Slight resistance’ is not actual immunity. I’m just curious as to how _you_ knew I had it.”

“Well, I didn’t know it was genetic,” Nijimura says, shaking his head. “It’s because of the Scorpios. Most people pass out from the pain.”

“I did, the first time I was touched by one,” Kiyoshi puts in.

Mayuzumi eyes the other man and thinks it’s a testament to his loyalty that he’s still hanging out with Nijimura after that. Or his masochism, whichever.

“Case in point: useless,” Mayuzumi remarks. “It still hurt like a bitch.”

“Case in point: you were still able to help in the fight. Slight resistance is more useful than you think and you should appreciate that.”

“Seems a tad patronizing from the guy who is completely immune,” Mayuzumi say.

“I nullify, I’m not immune,” Nijimura corrects.

“What’s the difference? Powers still don’t work on you.”

“The difference is that’s _my_ power. I’m a psychic too, remember?”

“Hmph,” Mayuzumi says. “Does that mean I’m slightly resistant to your nullification?”

“That’s a thought,” Nijimura grins.

*

“Is anyone else alarmed by the distinct lack of civilization?” Mayuzumi asks.

“Not particularly, that sums up this entire road trip,” Kiyoshi says.

“Yes, but we’re supposed to be getting close. Also, I really have to pee.”

“I can pull over,” Nijimura says.

Mayuzumi glares at the back of Nijimura’s head. “I am not an animal.”

“You are such a corporate princess,” Nijimura says.

“This corporate princess is bankrolling this excursion, _remember?_ ” Mayuzumi says threateningly.

“Is that a sign that I should take this thirteen mile detour to this small town that doesn’t appear on the GPS?” Nijimura says.

“Yes, yes, it is,” Mayuzumi says, as they drive past the only indication that there _is_ a town around here that they’ve seen for miles.

*

Mayuzumi ducks into the gas station store at the speed of light and questions his own scruples about peeing in the wilderness.

And then, out of a bizarre sense of fairness, he looks for something to purchase to justify his use of the facilities and settles on a bottle of water.

“Well, _you’re_ obviously not from around here,” says the clerk. She’s blowing a bubble with her gum and smacks it loudly. She’s short and indiscriminately Asian (Mayuzumi doesn’t want to assume she’s also Japanese) and eyeing Mayuzumi in a vaguely hostile manner that seems rather ridiculous, considering.

“Just passing through,” Mayuzumi say.

She lowers her sunglasses and stares at him. “Really? So you’re just on a road trip then?”

“No, I’m on a secret mission to find a rebel line of a super-secret breeding cult,” Mayuzumi replies, feeling vaguely tired all of the sudden.

“No kidding! That’s crazy. Are you a conspiracy theorist or government agent?”

“Private sector,” Mayuzumi replies absently.

“Ugh. Not one of the American companies, I’m betting. Akashi Industries?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Are you on your own?”

“No, I have friends,” Mayuzumi says.

“They’re working for AI too?”

“No,” Mayuzumi starts to feel guilty. “No, I shouldn’t—”

“Totally OK,” the girl says quickly. “Nevermind them. What do you want with the rebels? Looking to buy a psychic?”

“No, I just want information,” Mayuzumi says.

“Super lame, dude.”

“And maybe their help,” Mayuzumi adds. And then he frowns. “What were we talking about?”

“We were talking directions,” The girl says, putting her sunglasses back on. “Take a left and drive straight and eventually you’ll hit the highway to Denver.”

“Thanks,” Mayuzumi says, strolling out with his bottle.

*

He climbs into the backseat, and Kiyoshi and Nijimura are arguing directions.

“It’s a left and then straight,” Mayuzumi says absently.

Nijimura pauses. “What is?”

“The highway to Denver.”

Nijimura stares him. “Why the heck would we go to Denver?”

“I’m not sure,” Mayuzumi frowns. He looks down at his hands and sees a water bottle. He’s not entirely sure why he’s holding it.

“Chihiro? Are you OK?”

“Yes. No,” Mayuzumi says. He tries to think back to the last thing he remembers. “You know how I’m slightly resistant to psychic interference?”

“R1-HK1,” Nijimura says. “Yes, we were talking about it just a couple hours ago.”

“Well,” Mayuzumi says, struggling to remain calm. “I think someone just tampered with my memories.”

“Oh fuck,” Nijimura says quickly. “You must have met a Cancer-line.”

“A what?” Kiyoshi asks.

“They hypnotize you into telling the truth and then kinda wipe the encounter from your memory.”

“That, um, _also_ seems like something you should have mentioned,” Kiyoshi says reproachfully.

Mayuzumi should probably be pissed about this. “On the bright side, it means we’re in the right place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some OCs that belong to other people who first appear in these sections, and they’re remaining uncredited for now because their names haven’t been revealed in this section yet (but they will be soon!) I just wanted to acknowledge that the characters are there, currently unnamed, but will be back! With proper credits! 
> 
> Haruka and Reiko belong to [key-ei](http://key-ei.tumblr.com/) and Riku belongs to [shxujobrave](http://shxujobrave.tumblr.com/). Both of these lovely creators have a whole lot of backstory and writing and art for their characters so you should check that out if you can! 
> 
> Alsoooo, there might be a slight delay for the next chapter-- I haven't had the chance to edit it properly and it's massive. Just so you're forewarned!


	8. Interlude 4 ~We Do Not Disobey~

After Beirut, everything changes once again.

The scientists are rattled, but they make sure to keep calm in front of the Projects. They don’t bother to maintain their composure in front of the Rainbows, because they don’t think they needed to, so Shuuzou watches them in their agitation.

He is getting used to wearing the blank mask of the other Rainbows. It’s a necessity, both to avoid drawing the attention of the scientists, but also because if he is not blank he might be screaming all the time. It isn’t easy being near Miracle, not like it was when he was sharing the pain with his Generation. He hurts all the time.

He gathers that Jabberwocky had a mission in Beirut, and that it ended very, very badly. Seven Projects—all that was left of Jabberwocky—had been sent to Beirut, and only three had returned. And _whatever_ happened over there, it freaked out the scientists. _A lot._

The last mission to go this badly had been Miracle’s mission to Cairo, Shuuzou thinks. But at least _most_ of Miracle had returned, and that had not disturbed the scientists so badly. Whatever happened with Jabberwocky, _scared_ them.

“We scrap them,” Shuuzou overhears one scientists say. “Take their parts—”

“Are you _joking?_ That was a _bloodbath._ We’re not keeping any of them.”

“It’s not like _personality_ transfers over—”

“Considering the personality split that occurred with 0102, we can’t be sure of that. Just get rid of them, burn the bodies and salt the fucking _earth._ Jabberwocky needs to be erased.”

“Perhaps,” said a third scientist, and he clearly had more authority than the others. “But we’re in a bit of a bind, folks. Too many people died—too many _of our_ people died. We need to buy some good will, so to speak. A lot of our sponsors are backing out, and we’re going to need funds. Why not kill two birds with one stone?”

“You want to _sell_ them?” someone yelps. “That’s like selling someone a rabid bear! Who would even be _stupid_ enough—” He falls silent, thoughtful.

“Exactly,” the third man says. “Perhaps we can kill _three_ birds with this one. Samezuka has wanted a Project, and considering _their_ part in what went wrong, they might also be willing to…broker a truce, if you will.”

“And the Americans really want a Gold,” another scientist says thoughtfully. “We could throw in the Silver.”

“Even Americans are not going to be so stupid as to buy those two without any way of controlling them,” someone points out.

There’s a sigh. “Then, we’ll sell them a Rainbow. At a _very_ steep cost. We _do_ need the funds.”

And Shuuzou knows his life is going to change again. Because let’s face it—which other Rainbow would they send?

*

“Take care of your family,” he tells the Red Miracle before he leaves.

“I do not need anyone to tell me to look after my own Generation,” 0102 replies.

Shuuzou smiles. The Red Miracle says things like that whenever Shuuzou tries to tell him about the importance of family. It bugged him at first—it was a coldness that he hated in all of Miracle. But now he thinks it’s not that Miracle _doesn’t_ care, they just don’t know _how_ to care.

And who knows? Maybe someday they’ll learn.

“I know,” he says. “There’s no one better than you to lead these guys. I trust you.”

The look Red sends him is affronted and slightly hilarious.

*

On his last night in Teiko (ever) he finally tells the other Rainbows what Tsukasa told him. He’s still not sure he trusts them, but he does it because it’s the last promise he made someone in his Generation and he’s not going to betray that.

The Rainbows take in this information with the blank lack of response that characterizes all of them.

“Why are you telling us this?” 62 queries.

“Because I promised Tsukasa I would,” he replies instantly.  

“And what are we supposed to do with this information? Are we to stop Miracle from their attempt?”

The thought had never occurred to Shuuzou. _Is_ that what Tsukasa had foreseen? “Teiko should fall.”

“And us?” 62 asks. “Are we meant to fall with them?”

The question surprises him, only because he didn’t expect a Rainbow to ask it. But he supposes even a Rainbow must have a sense of self-preservation.

“Maybe,” Shuuzou says. “Maybe we should all die. We shouldn’t exist. But,” he thinks about all the Projects. “But I want to live.” Did Tsukasa want Miracle stopped? Why did he think it was so important for the Rainbows to know? “You could help them,” he says suddenly.

It’s still impossible for him to guess what they are thinking when they look at him. “Miracle. You could help them succeed. They might—need someone on their side. If they’re going to succeed.”

Do they _want_ to help Miracle? Their first instinct had been to stop them.

“Your Gold must have known he was going to die,” 62 says, causing Nijimura to flinch. He can still feel the moment when Tsukasa died…

“He knew he was going to die but he saw a future worth dying for,” 62 continues. “Something he thought even the other Kings should die for. That is not something to ignore.”

Shuuzou catches his breath because he had never thought of it that way before and now it kills him. Tsukasa died for this future. The Kings died for this future. And when he looks at the Rainbows, he knows they’re trying to decide if they should die for this future too. And they will. Tsukasa foresaw it. He must have. He saw the Rainbows sacrifice themselves for Miracle.

“You can do whatever you want with the information. Stop Miracle, don’t stop Miracle. Either way, I’m in America.” He tries not to sound bitter about the exchange. It seems unfair that Miracle gets to be free someday and he does not. It is not fair that Miracle gets to live when no one else does. Will Miracle even know how many people died for their freedom? Will they care?

62 touches his arm and he looks at her in surprise. Her palm lies flat on his left forearm.

“We do not have the failsafe explosives,” she says in her toneless voice. “Not like the other Projects. There was no point. We never leave the facility. We do not disobey.”

“Yes, I know,” Shuuzou says, confused. _He’d_ had an explosive but they removed it when they murdered his Generation and kept him confined to Teiko. (And _how,_ he wonders idly, will Miracle get around _that_ obstacle? He _almost_ wishes he’ll be around to find out).

“We have trackers,” 62 continues as if she didn’t hear him. “And they put them right here.”

“Oh,” Shuuzou says, looking down at her hand on his arm. He hadn’t known where the tracker was. She looks at him and after awhile he says, “ _Oh._ ”

Then she removes his hand and walks away. The other Rainbows follow her.

He never sees any of them again.

*

Halfway to Los Angeles he takes out a pen knife he’d stolen and jabs it into his arm repeatedly. It is incredibly painful, but he _is_ a Rainbow. He’s used to pain.

He sneaks out of the cargo bay of the plane when no one is looking and disappears into the LA crowds.


	9. Chapter 5

Nijimura takes them to the nearest hotel—which is only a couple blocks down the street from the gas station (Mayuzumi suspects this whole town is on this one street)—and he’s so tense the entire time that Mayuzumi decides not to give him too much crap for not telling him about yet another Legacy-line that has reappeared. (He’s definitely going to do that later).

“I’d like a room,” Nijimura snarls at the hotel clerk.

She’s another young girl, with medium length black hair, brown eyes, and light brown skin characteristic of Southeast Asians.

“We only have one room left,” she says, looking at the three of them.

“I only want one,” Nijimura returns.

“It only has one bed.”

“I only want one bed.”

“For all three of you?” she says doubtfully.

“He’s my boyfriend,” Nijimura says.

“Which one?” the girl asks, more curious than anything.

“Both of them,” Nijimura snaps. “Can I have the room now?”

She shrugs and starts typing rapidly at her computer. “Seems greedy.”

Nijimura is focusing on the girl, so he probably doesn’t see the way Kiyoshi flinches, although Mayuzumi notices. But Nijimura easily replies, “Not at all, it’s a very sharing love. The room?”

“Don’t be impatient,” she says tartly, and then gives him a set of keys (actual _keys_ , instead of the card most hotels in the 21st century use. Mayuzumi is so appalled). “You’re in room 13.”

“Thanks,” Nijimura says, still in that snappish way that’s bordering on hostile.

“What’s with you?” Mayuzumi asks once they get to their room. As promised, it only has one bed.

“She’s Legacy,” Nijimura says.

“Really?” Mayuzumi says, wishing he’d been paying closer attention. “I thought you said she’d be able to tell what you were, too.”

“She did. I’m willing to bet that’s why there’s only one room. I’m also doubting it was a coincidence that it’s room thirteen.”

Mayuzumi decides not to ask. “Well, I’m not sure why you were so eager, because I am _not_ going to share one bed with the two of you.”

“We’re not going to do much sleeping in it,” Nijimura replies off-hand.

“Kinky. And hard pass, but you and Kiyoshi have fun.”

Nijimura opens his mouth and then shuts it. “Ordinarily, I would love to exchange banter of the sexual innuendo variety with you, but right now, we have more pressing concerns, so stop distracting me.”

Mayuzumi motions a _go right ahead_ gesture.

“We seem to have accidentally stumbled upon the hideout for the Ophiuchus-line, guided loosely by coordinates from my informants and Chihiro’s bladder.”

“I knew my bladder was good for something,” Mayuzumi murmurs.

“How do you know they’re the rebels?” Kiyoshi asks, keeping them on track. “What if they’re, you know, the other kind?”

“Because I imagine we’d be dead by now if they were.”

“Oh,” Kiyoshi says.

“So we’re here. Huzzah,” Mayuzumi says. “Did you _have_ a plan after this?”

“Yes. Go get us dinner.”

“If I just give you a couple hundred dollars, will you stop treating me as your errand boy?”

“I _meant_ go out and try to talk to people. That’s why I brought the two of you, remember? So you could talk to the Legacy-line without me around. Although, I would not, on principle, say no to a couple hundred dollars.”

“Should I go too?” Kiyoshi asks.

Nijimura hesitates and then says, “No, not yet. I don’t think we should all split up just yet.”

“So you’re sending me because I _am_ expendable,” Mayuzumi snorts. “Thanks.” He gets up and cricks his neck. “Fine, but I’m picking dinner.” He grabs his wallet and his cell phone and starts heading out the door.

When he’s halfway out he hears, “Wait.”

And something grabs his wrist. Nijimura stands closer than Mayuzumi generally likes other people in his space, but it’s not uncomfortable.

“Be careful,” Nijimura says in a low voice. “You’re _not_ expendable.”

Nijimura, Mayuzumi decides, is very grabby. It’s unusual. Most of the other Miracles Mayuzumi has met aren’t really big on touching people. Akashi certainly hadn’t been. But then, Nijimura wasn’t a Miracle.

“I’ll be fine,” Mayuzumi says. He does know anyhow—Nijimura sent him out first because he figures he has the better chance of taking care of himself.

Nijimura swallows, still not letting go of Mayuzumi’s wrist. “If there’s any trouble, you run away, OK?”

“I have a fine tuned sense of self-preservation,” Mayuzumi reassures.

“OK,” Nijimura says, finally letting go. “Come back in an hour. Regardless of whether or not you make contact with anyone.”

“God, you’re pushy,” Mayuzumi gripes. “I revoked your status as trip leader, remember?” But he smiles, meeting Nijimura’s concerned gaze. Then he walks out the door.

*

He figures his best bet is to talk to the girl at the front desk. Nijimura had said she was Legacy-line, after all. And since she didn’t whammy them, Mayuzumi is assuming she’s not Cancer-line. (He is not in favor of meeting one of those again).

But the girl isn’t at the desk anymore. Mayuzumi waits for about ten minutes before giving up and heading out into the street.

So. Secret town, probably made up of a specially bred group of people with superpowers. How _does_ one start that conservation?

His stomach growls, reminding him of his secondary mission to acquire dinner.

Well, it’s a place to start anyway.

*

Mayuzumi sits in a McDonald's feeling a wave of nostalgia for his old job. He spends a lot of time thinking about invisibility.

He had studied Kuroko because Akashi told him to study Kuroko. Changing his playing style wasn’t as different as he would have thought: Mayuzumi was already pretty good at not drawing people’s attention.

The thing about crowds, Mayuzumi thinks, is that people see you. That’s just a fact. The key is not drawing their attention. Everyone sees hundreds of people every day and forget them instantaneously, because that’s just how the human mind works. You see someone, and if there’s nothing unusual about them, you forget them.

So all things considered, it is _very_ telling that not a single person in the McDonald’s is looking at Mayuzumi. He’s a Japanese man in a small town in middle America. People _should_ notice him.

But everyone very deliberately does not look at him when he gets up and tosses out his trash. They’re not looking at him when he walks outside either. It’s actually kind of creepy.

“Hey there,” someone calls in English. Mayuzumi sees a smiling blond man, probably in his late forties, approach him. “You sure look lost.”

“I’m not,” Mayuzumi answers, tense.

“No, I guess not. I’m guessing you’re right where you want to be. My name is Ronald.”

“Chihiro,” Mayuzumi replies, taking on the American approach to using first names.

“Chi-hi-ro,” he says, with exaggerated pronunciation on the syllables. “That’s a mouthful. Can I call you Chuck?”

“Sure. I’ll call you Ryuzaki.”

The man laughs. “You’re a riot, Chuckie. Now, I’m going to need you to call your boss and tell him to come here right away, got that?”

Mayuzumi starts dialing Masaomi’s phone number.

*

He’s in the backseat of a truck when he starts wondering why. _He told me to call Masaomi, so I did,_ Mayuzumi’s addled brain thinks. _I told Masaomi he needed to get here right away and gave him coordinates I didn’t have before. And then I go in the backseat of a truck because an unpleasant American man told me to. Crap, that doesn’t sound like something I would normally do._

His phone is equipped with a panic button. But he doesn’t seem to have his phone anymore.

_So you’ve been kidnapped, Chihiro,_ he tells himself. _You always knew that was a possibility._

The important thing to do is remain calm and make sure nothing shows on his face.

Fortunately, he is very good at that.

*

When the car stops, Mayuzumi tenses. The backdoor opens and Mayuzumi reacts— striking the man in the throat and darting out.

“Stop!” the man commands and Mayuzumi stops and hesitates for about five seconds before he thinks, _Why are you listening to him, run!_ And he starts moving again.

The five second delay was all the man needed; he tackles Mayuzumi to the ground and grabs him by the back of the neck.

“Oh,” he says, panting, “So you’re one of those resistant types? Should’ve figured. Well, at least this won’t be a total loss, even if this plan is a bust. I know a guy who’s _real_ interested in guys like you.”

Then he hits Mayuzumi in the back of the head, knocking him out.

*

Nijimura is pacing and has been pacing for the past half hour. The strange thing, really, is the fact that he was clearly agitated ever since he’d sent Mayuzumi out. Despite their bickering, Nijimura must have decided that Mayuzumi was someone else he needed to look after.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Kiyoshi says, trying to sound reasonable (he _somewhat_ feels he should point out that Nijimura _brought_ them here for a reason, but he doesn’t think that would help much).

“He should have checked in by now,” Nijimura mutters.

“Maybe,” Kiyoshi says. “Maybe he’s having a successful meeting and didn’t want to interrupt it.”

“Should we go look for him?” Nijimura asks.

“Sure,” Kiyoshi offers. He feels slightly hurt that Nijimura hadn’t sent him out to begin with, but only slightly.

“But they won’t react well if I’m there,” Nijimura says, distressed.

“I could go,” Kiyoshi ventures.

“But then you would _both_ be in danger,” Nijimura says, still agitated.

“Then we stay here.” He’s slightly amused that despite the fact that Nijimura is talking to him, he’s not actually a necessary component to this conversation. Kiyoshi feels like even if he wasn’t here, Nijimura would carry on having the exact same debate with himself.

Nijimura’s lips tighten. “It _has_ been too long. Maybe we should—”

A knock on the door interrupts this train of thought, prompting Nijimura to leap to the door. “Fin—” he stops, with his hand on the handle and then says, “Teppei, get behind me.”  
Kiyoshi hastily complies, slightly alarmed.

Nijimura flings the door open and two girls stand there—the hotel clerk from earlier and an Asian girl in sunglasses.

“What?” Nijimura snarls.

“Your friend’s been kidnapped,” the hotel clerk says. “We just thought—it wasn’t _us_ , freak!”

They take a step back as Nijimura surges forward. Kiyoshi places a restraining hand on his friend’s shoulder. The girls aren’t armed. If they’re Legacy-line, they don’t necessarily _need_ to be armed to have weapons, but their abilities wouldn’t work with Nijimura here.

“What happened to him?” Kiyoshi asks, addressing the girls.

They keep a wary eye on Nijimura but they answer the question.

“A man named Ronald Amos took him,” the hotel clerk says.

“We wouldn’t have told you,” the Asian girl says. “We didn’t have to, you know. But Maya thought it might cause more complications. So now you’re told and our good deed for the decade is done, and we’re going to go now.”

“No you don’t, you little—”

Kiyoshi pulls on Nijimura again, a little firmer this time. Nijimura hasn’t activated his abilities yet as far as Kiyoshi can tell, but he’s fairly certain things will only get worse if he does.

“Please, we just came to talk to you,” Kiyoshi says. “We’re not going to hurt you. But if someone dangerous has our friend, it would help a lot if you could give us a little more information. We’re not going to bother you, I swear.”  
This statement is somewhat undercut by the way Nijimura glowers. The girls glower right on back.

“Please, would you like to come in?” Kiyoshi asks, motioning them inside the room. “We have Twizzlers. And Milk Duds.”

The two girls continue to eye them warily but then the hotel clerk—Maya, Kiyoshi is guessing—sighs and says, “Fine. I could eat some Milk Duds.”

*

The room is not that big and the one bed takes up most of the available space. The girls introduce themselves as Maya Kalani and Kei, and they take the only two chairs in the room that are the desk.

“Talk,” Nijimura says through gritted teeth.

“We didn’t _have_ to tell you anything!” Kei snaps. She hasn’t taken her sunglasses off, which Kiyoshi finds odd since they’re indoors. “We could have just left you wondering.”

“We appreciate that you told us,” Kiyoshi cuts in quickly, before Nijimura gets the chance to snarl again. “But a little more information would be helpful. Who’s Ronald Amos? Is he...one of you?”

Kei snorts derisively. “Not hardly. If you mean—is he Legacy-line, then yes, that’s how he got your boy. But he’s not Ophiuchus if that’s what you’re thinking. Ronald only cares about Ronald.”

“ _That’s_ why we thought we should tell you,” Maya says, keeping her eyes fixed on Nijimura in that same way a person might want to fixate on the cobra in the room to make sure it doesn’t go anywhere. “He’s not in good standing with the Legacy, but he’s always looking for leverage. I think he only wanted your friend because he wants Masaomi Akashi’s money, but he might also get Archer involved, which makes that _our_ problem.”

“How do you know who our friend works for?” Nijimura demands.

“Please,” Maya dismisses. “Ask me a hard question.”

“You’re Pisces-line,” Nijimura says.

Maya shrugs. “Guilty as charged.”

The hackers, Kiyoshi remembers. Although, Nijimura had explained that it was the manipulation of electricity which just made them good with computers, instead of the technopathic control that Pink Twos like Momoi Satsuki could do. It seemed important to Nijimura that the Pink Twos were superior in ability.

“So he’s not going to hurt Mayuzumi,” Kiyoshi cuts in.

Kei tilts her head. “Define ‘hurt.’”

“This isn’t _funny,_ ” Nijimura seethes.

“We didn’t ask you to come here,” Kei bites back. “In fact, you kinda brought nothing but trouble, so all things considered, we should just let Ronald kill your friend, and you, and—”

“Archer,” Kiyoshi interrupts, because if he doesn’t, Nijimura might actually attack them. “You said Ronald might get Archer involved.”

“Yes,” Kei says grumpily. “It’s just a thought I had when I talked to your friend earlier. He’s kinda resistant, isn’t he?”

“You were from the gas station,” Nijimura says, making the connection between Kiyoshi does. “The Cancer-line.”

“What, did you want a gold star or something?” the girl replies.

“What does Mayuzumi’s resistancy have to do with Archer?” Kiyoshi asks, still trying to avoid an escalation.

The two girls look at each other and shrug. “Archer has a theory that if resistants exists, so does true immunity,” Maya explains.

“It doesn’t,” Nijimura says, frowning, and for the first time, not angry at the two girls. “True immunity is a myth. I’d have heard of it by now if it exists.”

“ _I_ would have heard by now if it existed,” Maya corrects. “And so would Archer, who’s been working with Fisher—the Pisces Elder—”

“Yeah, I got it,” Nijimura says, although Kiyoshi had certainly appreciated the explanation.

“And across the entire world’s network of digital archives, there has never been proof an immune human exists. But Archer is convinced that such a person has to exist.”

“Why?” Nijimura says.

“Because you do,” Maya says easily, raising a brow. “Rainbows exist. If Teiko could create a fake nullification psychic ability, then real immunity has to exist in humans. And Archer wants one, and until he gets his hands on one in the meantime, he’s been collecting resistants.”

“What does he _do_ with them?” Nijimura exclaims.

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Kei says.

At the same time, Maya puts in, “I heard he’s dissecting them and creating some sort of serum.”

“But we don’t want Archer _here_ and honestly, if you brought Archer’s attention to this town I’m going to be so pissed,” Kei says.

“Tell me where this Ronald guy is and that won’t be a problem,” Nijimura says calmly.

The two girls eye him warily and Kiyoshi doesn’t really blame them on that one. There’s something about Nijimura’s calm that strongly suggests he has a very single-minded approach to ensuring that Ronald doesn’t call Archer.

“Actually,” the Cancer-line says slowly, “I think there’s something you could do for us. As, say, quid pro quo.”

“Kei!” Maya hisses. Kiyoshi guesses she knows what her friend is hinting at and doesn’t approve.

“Fine,” Nijimura says. “Tell me where our friend is, and I’ll do anything you want.”

Kei narrows her eyes. “No. How are we supposed to trust you? You’re one of those nullification freaks. If we tell you where your friend is you could come back and slaughter us all.”

“Or I could slaughter you now,” Nijimura says softly.

Kiyoshi flinches at the sound. It’s like the air shifts, and the person standing next to him is a stranger. When they were at the gas station during the Scorpio attack, Kiyoshi had thought the same thing: _I don’t know this man._

It is an easy thing to forget—that Nijimura was at Teiko. Like the Miracles, he’s dangerous.

“Then you won’t ever find your friend,” Kei says flatly, not backing down. “And Ronald will sell him to Archer, who will probably cut him up into little itty bitty pieces.”

“ _Please,_ ” Kiyoshi says, desperate to somehow change the atmosphere they’re in. “What do you want us to do?”

“Not _you,_ ” Kei snorts. She jerks her chin at Nijimura. “ _Him._ One of his kind killed a friend of ours. His murderer is probably still here, and if that guy gets rid of it for us, then we’ll tell you where Ronald is keeping your friend.”

“There is no ‘my kind,’” Nijimura says bitingly. “The Rainbows died in Teiko.”

“Didn’t say Rainbow, did I?” Kei challenges. “It was a Teiko freak, that’s what I meant.”

“Oh, please,” Nijimura says. “There aren’t any other Teiko Projects in America.”

Which, Kiyoshi thinks, is not entirely true, and Nijimura knows that. But since the only other Teiko Projects in America were locked away in Providence, Kiyoshi is willing to admit that there’s no point in equivocating.

“Well, there’s at least one,” Maya says.

“What makes you so sure?”

“We found Ryan’s body,” Maya answers, swallowing. “The coroner said he’d been dead for at least a week when we found him.”

“So?” Nijimura says.

“So we’d just talked to him that morning,” Maya replies.

“...Oh,” Nijimura says. “Surely, there’s a Legacy-line that can do that…”

“Nice try, pal,” Kei says. “The only Legacy-line that can shapeshift is Capricorn-line, and _they_ only slightly turn into fish. This was a Yellow Six. Had to be.”

“And it’s probably still here,” Maya says uneasily. “Honestly, the only reason we decided to come here is we knew _you_ weren’t the Yellow Six. We haven’t had the same certainty about anyone else.”

Nijimura sighs. He doesn’t try to argue that it wasn’t possible for a Yellow Six to be here killing people, which leaves Kiyoshi to believe that Nijimura must know that it _is_ a possibility.

“OK, look, I _promise_ I’ll take care of that,” Nijimura says. “But I can’t afford to lose any time. My friend—”

“Then you better solve our problem quickly, yeah?” Kei says.

There is another one of those moments where Kiyoshi is slightly worried Nijimura is about to do something incredibly violent. Kiyoshi is suddenly very glad that he came along on this trip, because he gets the sense that it’s only his presence now that keeps Nijimura from falling back on his early training.

The girls seem to sense this as well, and by the looks of them, they were not trained from childhood for combat.

“He won’t hurt your friend,” Maya says quickly. “That’s not his style. As long as he thinks your friend could get him some money, he’s not going to do anything to him.”

“As long as he’s valuable,” Nijimura repeats. “And after, when Ronald decides he’s not?”

“It won’t take that long,” Maya says. “Tonight we have a—a sort of town hall. If there’s an imposter among us, he’ll be at that meeting. All _you_ have to do is show up, tell us which one is the Yellow Six, and it’s a done deal.”

“What if the imposter _isn’t_ at that meeting?” Nijimura asks.

“We’ll tell you where your friend is,” Maya says, before Kei can pipe in with what was probably not as generous a response.

“Fine,” Nijimura says, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Why not? I always have to clean up Teiko’s mess. It’s what I’m here for.”

He flexes his fingers, looking like he’s trying to maintain his composure. Then, very casually, Nijimura says, “If Chihiro dies I’m going to slaughter your whole town.”

Even Kiyoshi isn’t sure if it’s a bluff.

*

Mayuzumi wakes up handcuffed to a dining chair.

It is not the most optimal situation to find himself in, but he does figure it could have been a lot worse.   

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was beginning to worry I hit you too hard.”

Mayuzumi blearily fixates on Ronald, but then goes back to studying his surroundings. It looks like he’s in one of those American horror movies—where the house is fairly normal all things considered with just a few bits of decoration that’s just _off_ enough that the audience knows it’s a creepy death house and the five dumb teenagers who found their way into this cabin are going to die. In this case, it’s the amount of dead things that are stuffed and mounted on the wall, or the gun rack, and the heavy, wood-carved furniture that all creates this incredibly creepy image.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Mayuzumi says blithely.

“Thanks, my wife likes to decorate.”

“Oh, there’s a Mrs. Creepy Death House? That’s nice.”

Ronald smiles like a man who isn’t entirely sure if he’s being insulted. “Look Chuck, I really have nothing against you,” he says with an earnest sort of drawl. “But I heard the little Pisces-line girl say you probably worked for Masaomi Akashi, and I knew I couldn’t let this opportunity slip by me.”

Pisces-line. The hackers. So much for Masaomi’s best-laid plans.

“Oh no, I would never hold this against you. What’s a little kidnapping between business professionals?” Mayuzumi asks.

“Exactly,” Ronald beams. “It’s strictly business.”

“Just what exactly _is_ your plan? Ransom?” Mayuzumi asks. Masaomi would probably pay the ransom. And then he’d go about destroying the man and everything he cared about, and at least Mayuzumi would get to enjoy that.

“I was thinking more along the lines of getting him to give me all his money and everything he owns.”

Mayuzumi can’t help it—he laughs. Ronald frowns because he’s clearly the kind of man who does not like being laughed at, no matter the situation.

“You expect him to just _give_ you the money?” Mayuzumi asks.

“I just need him here,” Ronald says, baring his teeth. “I can be very convincing.”

“So I’m _bait?_ ” Mayuzumi exclaims, still incredulous.

“Well, you _were_ bait. Now you’re my backup plan. I know a guy who’s real interested in resistant types like you. Archer will pay top dollar for you.”

“Archer as in Kenji Yamazaki?” Mayuzumi blurts out without thinking.

Ronald tilts his head. “Now how would you know a name like that?”

“I know lots of things. Why does he want resistant people?”

Ronald shrugs. “He wants an immune human. Don’t know why. It all seems a little kinky to me, but you Japs are weird people.”

Mayuzumi is of the opinion that people who live in creepy dead-animal ridden houses are not allowed to throw creepy stones, but he keeps that to himself. He also wonders how many bad guy stereotypes one man is allowed to have. (It’s like a check list: Dead animals in the house, check. Racist, check. Mayuzumi is betting Ronald is also homophobic and likes to kick puppies).  There are all kinds of layers of irony going on here and it’s wasted on Ronald anyway. “As happy as I am that I am apparently valuable in my own right, I am still a little confused about the first part of your plan. Do you really think _Masaomi Akashi_ is just going to waltz right over to America because I _asked_ him to over the phone? Why on earth do you think he would do that for an _employee_?”

“I’m not sure why,” Ronald says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t make sense to me, that’s for sure. Unless he’s fucking you like some kind of pervert, which is the only reason I can think of.” Mayuzumi resists the urge to gag. Is that what _everyone_ thinks? (Also, check. It feels good to be right about the bad guy stereotypes). “At any rate, we can both ask him why when he gets here, since according to my security cameras he’s currently pulling up my driveway.”

“What?” Mayuzumi says, sure that he must be misunderstanding something.

“Guess I should go greet him, shouldn’t I?” Ronald says cheerfully. “You stay here, Chuck.” And like a loser, he laughs at his own terrible joke as he walks away.

*

About fifteen minutes later, Masaomi and Akane have both joined Mayuzumi at the dining table, handcuffed to their chairs.

“What the hell?” Mayuzumi hisses. Ronald isn’t in the room at the moment (not that it matters much, since Mayuzumi highly doubts the man speaks Japanese).

“I don’t see why you’re so indignant, Peaches. You got caught first,” Masaomi points out.

“And it should have been obvious it was a trap when I called you!” Mayuzumi says.

“Of course it was obvious,” Masaomi says cheerfully. “That’s why I came. You didn’t think I’d come for a _boring_ reason, did you?”

“So there’s backup coming?” Mayuzumi perks up.

“Oh no, we’re quite on our own. Right, Akane-chan?”

“Masaomi-san thought it best if we did not tell anyone where we were going,” Akane says, looking singularly bored with their capture. Mind you, this is how she usually looks, but Mayuzumi is somewhat hoping this at least would disconcert her.

“Why?” Mayuzumi asks through gritted teeth.

“Because this might involve some shady business deals,” Masaomi says promptly. “The less people who know what’s going on, the better.”

“And how’d you get here so quickly?” Mayuzumi asks suspiciously. “Were you already in America?”

“Er. Would you believe I just happened to be in the neighborhood?”

Mayuzumi is not entirely sure why this bothers him so much. Perhaps because he can’t help but feel like this whole adventure has been a colossal waste of his time. “You were following me.”

“Tracking you,” Masaomi corrects. “What was in New Mexico? That was way out of the way just to get there.”

“If you wanted to track the Legacy-line on your own you could have just done it yourself,” Mayuzumi says.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The Rainbow kid would have never brought _me_ on a road trip. For one thing, can you imagine how awkward it would have been for a middle aged man to room with a bunch of kids in their twenties?”

“And now we’re all kidnapped together,” Mayuzumi says. He’s prevented from saying anymore when a beautiful blonde woman comes into the room, holding a pitcher of lemonade.

“You folks must be thirsty,” she says. “Ronald said I should bring you something to drink.”

“You must be Mrs. Creepy Death House,” Mayuzumi says. She stares at him vacantly.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Masaomi says.

“Oh, yes, you’re welcome.” She pours them all glasses of lemonade and then leaves the room. All three of them stare at the glasses in front of them. They are still handcuffed to chairs.

“Lovely woman,” Masaomi says.

“Do you have any kind of plan?” Mayuzumi asks.

“None whatsoever!” Masaomi grins. “How could I? I had no idea what I was walking into. And a hypnotism Legacy-line, that’s neat. I wonder which one it is.”

“Aries,” Mayuzumi says absently.

“Ah, did he tell you?”

“No, but there are ram heads carved into all the creepy wood furniture.”

“How astute of you,” Masaomi says, looking around. “I must admit, I was more fascinated by the dead things on the wall. What is with Americans and dead animals?”

“I believe it is a demonstration of their prowess as hunters, Masaomi-san,” Akane explains.

“Ha! I always say hunting isn’t a sport unless—”

“Now is not the time, Masaomi-san.”

Oh, fine. Hey Peaches, why do you look so beat up?”

“Our host didn’t like it when his ability wore off,” Mayuzumi says, giving up altogether on the possibility of getting Masaomi to take the situation seriously. If Akane wasn’t trying harder to keep him on track, then it must not be all that serious.

“It wears off quickly, doesn’t it?” Mayuzumi says triumphantly. “I noticed that too—it’s more like a subconscious suggestion, like true hypnotism. Absolute Order is _much_ more powerful.”

Mayuzumi gapes at the man. “Are you _dad-bragging_ right now?”

“What? Of course not! I’m just saying, the obvious superiority of Absolute Order over hypnotism is a true testament to the triumph of science over natural selection.”

“You _are_ dad-bragging. You are dad-bragging that your son has the superior mind-control abilities.”

“I am stating an objective fact, don’t get excited, Peaches.”

Mayuzumi is spared from having to respond by the return of Ronald and his wife.

“Sorry to leave you alone for so long, folks. I had to prepare the paperwork,” Ronald says, seeming extraordinarily pleased with himself.

He sits at the table across from Masaomi and pushes a handful of papers towards him. “I’m going to need you to sign these.”

“How, exactly? Using only the powers of my mind?”

“Of course, how silly of me. Honey, uncuff him. Only the one hand now, that’s a girl. Now, Masaomi, sign all these papers that declare I own all your assets.”

*

Nijimura still looks like he’s on the brink of homicide, and Kiyoshi really isn’t sure what he can say to make him feel better. “Mayuzumi-san is very capable,” he tries. “I am sure he will be fine.”  
Nijimura’s lips tighten. “If he dies, it’ll be all my fault. And Teppei—you shouldn’t even be here. This whole thing was a mistake.”

Kiyoshi can’t even feel resentful at that comment. He _shouldn’t_ be here. That’s not Nijimura’s fault, though, it’s entirely his own. In fact, Nijimura did his best to tell him it would be dangerous, and it was like Kiyoshi hadn’t believed him. Or maybe he hadn’t cared.

But Mayuzumi has been kidnapped, and they’re—well, not _exactly_ in the hands of the enemy, but not entirely safe either. As they walk to an undisclosed location with people who might have reason to kill them, Kiyoshi starts to think about all the things he _really_ should have thought about before, when Nijimura first told him this was dangerous.

_What if you actually never make it back to Japan?_

He spent so long trying to avoid going home but it never occurred to him what it would be like if he never went back. His grandparents would be absolutely devastated—it might actually kill his grandpa, who has a weak heart.

Alexandra Garcia would feel immensely guilty as well. She brought him to America to help him, and she was very kindhearted, despite her bravado and bluster. She would never forgive herself despite the fact that this was all Kiyoshi’s fault.

He’d never play basketball with Seirin again. He’d never even got the chance to say good-bye to the First Years who were now Second-Years. Or meet the _new_ First Years who sounded like an interesting bunch even if there weren’t any unexpected surprises like Kagami or Kuroko.

And. He’d never see Hyuuga or Riko again. He never got the chance to tell either of them how he felt—he never got to kiss even _one_ of them, and that seems rather unfair now. Although, if he had any preference in the matter, it would have been nice to at least kiss both of them once before he died.

“What if the Yellow Six isn’t there?” Nijimura says loudly. “Am I supposed to meet everyone in this hick town one by one and verify they’re not a shapeshifter?”

“That would be immensely helpful, thank you,” Kei says.

Kiyoshi is pretty sure it will be a miracle if they get out of this without Nijimura punching someone.

“OK, we’re here,” Maya says as they reach a building that is actually inscribed with “Town Hall” on the front.

“Look, you don’t have to do anything, just point,” Kei says.

“I mean, everyone is going to know who you are, and that’s not going to go over well,” Maya says hastily. “So if you could be as quiet as possible, that would be really helpful.”

“This whole thing is stupid,” Nijimura says as they open the doors. “Not to mention, a colossal waste of time. I don’t know why you think this is going to be easy, I—oh, it’s that one. Man in the glasses, gray hair.”

Both girls and Kiyoshi turn to where Nijimura as casually points, but they didn’t need to. The man takes one look at Nijimura and starts to scream.

*

It all happens much more quickly than Kiyoshi would have expected. There is a flash of yellow and then there’s a very pretty (and familiar looking) yellow-haired, yellow-eyed girl who is trying her best to run away in a crowded room.

She doesn’t get very far—the few people who were glaring at Nijimura’s sudden appearance seem to recognize the bigger threat and they move in on her quickly. She fights back but her heart isn’t in it. Eventually, she slumps to the ground, sobbing, and even the people who are holding her back look on her with pity.

“ _Why?_ ” she says. _“Why do_ you _still exist?”_

Nijimura’s face grows hard again—turning him into that cold stranger Kiyoshi barely recognizes.

“Hello, 623,” he says, his voice tight. She flinches at the sound of his voice, her whole body shuddering as she sobs.

Kiyoshi feels an immense amount of sadness for her. He vaguely remembers that all things considered, she probably killed a man, maybe two considering she looks like someone new, and she’s not _exactly_ someone who deserves a whole lot of pity. Even so. He pities her.

“Maya, Kei, what is the meaning of this?” a stern looking woman asks.

“We thought there was a Yellow Six around,” Kei shrugs. “Turns out there was.”

“And _him?_ ” Everyone looks at Nijimura.

“This is going to be hard to believe, given the circumstances, but I assure you, my being here at the same time as her was purely coincidental.”

“Fairly big coincidence,” someone say doubtfully. Nijimura only shrugs as if to say, _What can you do?_

“I’m here, whether you believe me or not, to try and negotiate an alliance between Ophiuchus and Providence. But at the moment, I have more pressing concerns, and I believe we had a deal?” he turns to Kei.

She sticks out her chin. “He lives on Ramtop—only house on the hill, you can’t miss him.”

“Thank you. Teppei?”

“He stays here,” Kei says.

Nijimura grows very still and cold again. “Now, _that_ was not part of our deal.”

_“We_ have unfinished business,” Kei says, pointing to the Yellow Six who is still sobbing on the ground. “And I don’t trust you not to grab your friend and go. If _he_ stays here, we know you’ll come back.”

Nijimura moves forward and Kiyoshi places a hand on his chest, stopping him. “It’s OK, Shuuzou. I don’t mind. I trust these folks, they’re not going to hurt me.”

Kiyoshi can see Nijimura’s jaw tightening as he debates his options. The strange thing is that his face grows blank the more he thinks, and Kiyoshi is beginning to recognize the cold and blankness as a mask for his fury.

“It’s really OK, Shuuzou. You need to go save Mayuzumi-san. I promise you it’s going to be OK.” It’s not a promise that’s really in his power to keep and they both know it, but Kiyoshi feels that as long as he maintains his composure he can make sure Nijimura doesn’t do anything they’ll regret.

“OK, Teppei,” Nijimura says quietly. He looks to Kei, as the default spokeswoman. He doesn’t say anything—doesn’t deliver any last threats, doesn’t even say good-bye. Kiyoshi is pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to leave if he said anything else. So Nijimura just turns and leaves.

Kiyoshi lets out a breath and he’s pretty sure he’s not the only one. The air around Nijimura has been pretty intense. He looks at Kei and smiles shakily. “Well, after all that, I really hope you’re not going to kill me.”

“No,” Kei says, considering this. “But we’re going to have to put you in the town jail. Just until your friend comes back, you understand.” She looks down at the Yellow Six, who isn’t crying anymore, but she’s still shaking. “We’ll put you in separate cells.”

“Our jail is getting pretty full, though,” Maya says. “It’s going to be a really awkward gathering.”

“What do you mean?” Kiyoshi asks, frowning and really not liking the concept of “jail.”

Maya shrugs. “We got a few more inhabitants this morning. It’s been a stressful couple of days.”

Kiyoshi isn’t sure what that means, but he has a very uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

That uneasiness proves justified when he sees his fellow inmates.

It’s Ivan and Vy.

*

Mayuzumi wishes the act of Masaomi signing away his fortune wasn’t so horrifying, except he’s pretty sure this means they’re all going to die soon.

Ronald gathers up the papers with a triumphant sort of gleam in his eyes. Masaomi blinks as he slowly gains back control of himself.

“Hm, it doesn’t last as long as Absolute Order either,” Masaomi says. “Really, Mr. Amos, you should look into performance enhancers. Science will take care of that for you.”

“I got the job done, didn’t I?” Ronald shoots back, eyes flashing angrily at Masaomi’s innuendo.

“Hm. Akane-chan, did I just sign away all my assets?”

“Yes, Masaomi-san, you did.”

“Huh. Did you tell him that will never work?”

“He did not ask, Masaomi-san.”

Ronald stills, wary. Then he snorts. “Nice try. These are notarized documents. They’ll hold.”

“Oh, OK,” Masaomi says, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Carry on, then.”

“They’ll work!” Ronald says.

Masaomi just laughs. “Do you _know_ who I live with? Come on, man. Think it through.”

“The Teiko freak,” Ronald says irritably. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Masaomi lets out a very long, drawn-out sigh—the kind that clearly indicates he is very tired of dealing with people of low intelligence. “It means I _live_ with someone who, at any given moment, could Order all _kinds_ of nasty things, and I have taken certain precautions that certain things like, oh, let’s say, my signature on documents signing away all my fortune and assets, are absolute bunk in terms of _actually_ signing away my fortune.”

“He’s your son,” Ronald says, baffled.

“I assure you, he’d be insulted if I made it easy for him. In fact, my signature is pretty much worthless these days. Anything even remotely legal involves a process so complicated even I don’t understand what it fully entails. I literally could not sign away my fortune if I wanted to, isn’t that right? Akane-chan?”

“That is correct, Masaomi-san. I have taken great pains to ensure you can not accidentally bankrupt your company and millions of employees.”

“Always a concern! I make very reckless decisions—”

A howl interrupts Masaomi as Ronald throws the papers on the ground and then points a gun directly at Akane’s head.

“ _You_ seem to know how it works then. Tell me how I can get his money,” Ronald demands.

“You are still misunderstanding the situation,” Akane says calmly; and no one could ever guess there was a gun pressed against her temple. “No such way exists. Had you asked for ransom, Masaomi-san could have withdrawn money from the bank, but it is legally impossible for him to sign away his assets.”

Mayuzumi is terrified, even if Akane is not. He genuinely believes Ronald is going to shoot Akane, and then probably him, and then Masaomi. Like Akane, he is fairly certain nothing shows on his face, but short of miraculous intervention, he’s not sure how they’re getting out of this one.

Ronald’s hands are shaking—not in a scared way, but in the barely contained fury sort of way. He is seconds away of shooting Akane in the head, and no one is stopping him. Even his wife just stares blankly off into space, like she’s bored.

“Well, alright,” Ronald says, lowering his gun. “I can at least get five thousand from Archer for the kid. Haven’t decided on the two of _you_ yet, but this isn’t a loss.”

“Archer would be Kenji Yamazaki, correct?” Masaomi asks, sounding a little too casual. “Does he have a predilection for buying pretty young men?”

“Who knows?” Ronald says and then he leaves the room again.

“He’s buying resistants,” Mayuzumi says off-hand, the banality of the statement helping to make his own horror at the situation. “I don’t think he knows how to identify R1-HK1 yet.”

“I should think not, that was some _very_ fine genetic coding, if I do say so myself,” Masaomi says. “Why on earth would he want resistants? You guys don’t do much.”

“Apparently, he’s looking for an immune human. Immune to psychic interferences,” he clarifies at Masaomi’s confused expression.

“An _immune_ —that doesn’t even make sense! You could genetically engineer one, I suppose, but that would have to be a psychic power in and of itself—”

“The Rainbows,” Mayuzumi offers.

“Yes, naturally. What, he thinks thousands of years of human evolution would just _produce_ an immune human out of nowhere? R1-HK1 doesn’t even work like that. I don’t even think it’s possible. An immune human would—”

Masaomi abruptly stops talking. Mayuzumi has seen him do this before—his brain works on completely different levels and he can process an intense amount of information. He’s currently working through five layers of genetic information, math, and statistical probability. “Why does he want one, anyhow?” Masaomi asks when he resumes talking.

“No idea,” Mayuzumi says. “But apparently he wants one really badly.”

“Hm. Akane-chan, when we get back to the office, see about finding an immune human, will you?”

“Yes, Masaomi-san. I’ll put it on my calendar.”

“What, are you going to sell him one?” Mayuzumi asks.

“Don’t be absurd, Peaches. The key to any battle is to find out what your enemy wants and make sure you have it. If Yamazaki Kenji wants an immune human, I’m just going to make sure I find one first, now won’t I?”

“Excellent plan,” Mayuzumi says. “I can’t help but note it has the slight hiccup that we are _all handcuffed to chairs_ and are probably going to die soon.”

“Oh, now you’re just being stupid,” Masaomi says. “I pay you to be smarter than this, Peaches.”

“So we’re not going to die?” Mayuzumi has to admit, he feels a lot better with Masaomi’s confidence. If Masaomi thinks they’re going to make it out of this, then they probably will.

“Well, _I’m_ not going to. There are only two acceptable ways for me to die, and this is not one of them.”

Mayuzumi feels the oncoming sense of dread. “I feel like I’m going to regret asking, but those two ‘acceptable’ deaths would be…?”

“The first is if I’ve uploaded my consciousness to an artificial intelligence system thereby effectively reaching immortality despite the inevitable decay of my mortal flesh.”

“...Naturally…”

“The second is if Seijuurou murders me. Whichever comes first.”

“ _Your son_ killing you is an _acceptable_ way to die?” Mayuzumi exclaims. “You _want_ him to kill you?”

“Of course not! But I refuse to be murdered by anyone who is not my equal, and Seijuurou is the only one who is a worthy adversary.”

“You... _disturb_ me,” Mayuzumi says.

“You’re not the first one to tell me that,” Masaomi says. “At any rate, I can’t die yet. If I die without meeting Seijuurou’s boyfriend, Seijuurou wins, and fuck if I’m going to let that happen.”

“You haven’t met Furihata?” Mayuzumi says, surprised.

Masaomi immediately whips his head at him. “ _You_ have?”

“Sure,” Mayuzumi shrugs, “Nice kid. Have no idea what he sees in your son.”

“Oh, for the love of—that just isn’t right.”

Meeting Furihata had actually been an accident, having run into the two of them at a bookstore in Kyoto. Akashi had _not_ been pleased the encounter had occurred. Mayuzumi knows Akashi doesn’t want too many people meeting Furihata, especially not his father, and while Mayuzumi doesn’t fully understand, it only took a couple weeks of working for Masaomi to realize that if Masaomi was _his_ father, he definitely wouldn’t want the hypothetical love of his life meeting his parents either.

So while this is something Akashi is keeping quiet on purpose, he can’t help but twist the knife a little. “I can’t believe you haven’t met him yet! Akashi said it was important for all his important people to know each other.”

“You’re making that up, Seijuuro would _never_ say that.”

“I know he’s planning on marrying the kid, so it really is shocking you haven’t met your future son-in-law. Although, I do think it’s adorable that meeting your son-in-law is on your bucket list. I can’t wait to tell Akashi how much his father loves him—”

“I just don’t want to give him the satisfaction! Don’t be such a prick, Peaches.”

“First you’re dad-bragging, now you’re saying you can’t die until you meet your son-in-law, really, it’s touching—”

A quick gasp interrupts their banter; the sound of someone crying completely halts everyone’s actions. All three of them stare at each other, verifying that no one is crying. And then they turn and look at Ronald’s wife, who has been sitting in the corner this entire time.

It’s clear that Mayuzumi is not the only one who forgot she was there. And now she’s shaking, tears running down her cheeks.

“Please,” she says, her voice broken. “Please kill me.”

Mayuzumi is completely frozen. It’s like his brain stops processing information.

“Please,” she says again. “I miss my family. My husband, my kids—I can’t. I can’t live like this anymore. He won’t let me go.”

“You,” Masaomi speaks first, “You aren’t married to Ronald Amos.”

“ _No,_ ” the woman sobs louder, burying her face in her hands.

Mayuzumi thinks he’ll probably remember this forever: how sick he felt, how badly he wanted to throw up, and how he just wanted to go back to Japan and never leave his apartment ever again.

But mostly, he’ll remember how horrified Masaomi looked. He’s never seen that expression on Masaomi before.

*

“You’re here too, lover boy? Where’s the freak?” Vy asks.

“We really aren’t lovers,” Kiyoshi says mildly, entering his own cell with more grace than he thought himself capable of in this moment.

“Rui!” a third man says—he has pink hair and he’s occupying the cell next to Vy and Ivan’s cell. Now with Rui in one and Kiyoshi in another, the town hall’s holding area is completely full.

“So you _are_ a traitor,” Kei says.

“No, I told you,” the pinkhaired man says. “I’m—” he looks at the yellow-haired girl, who is still pale and staring off into the air into nothing. The pink-haired man swallows and says, “I’m—I was here to stop her.”

“And yet you conveniently didn’t tell us what her abilities were,” Maya says.

The pink-haired man winces. “I didn’t think—Rui-chan, are you OK?”

“You lied,” Rui says dully. “Kisumi, you’re such a fucking liar. You were Ophiuchus this entire time, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but—Rui-chan, I just wanted—”

“Stop that! You’re making me think I can trust you! I can’t! Just—just stop!”

“You tried that on us, too,” Kei says cheerfully. “The funny thing about suddenly feeling like you can trust a Libra-line, is that it’s usually a pretty good indicator that you can’t actually trust the Libra-line.”

Kisumi pouts. “That’s not fair. My powers don’t work like that. Everyone is always just prejudiced against Libra-line.”

“Because you’re not trustworthy,” Kei says.

“Oh, says the fucking _Cancer-line_ ,” Vy shouts, slapping her hands against the bars. “Cancer-line is the _worst_.”

“You’re just saying that because I beat you _so easily_ ,” Kei says.

“I’m going to get out of this, and then the entire world is going to know where you are—”

“Ha! Tough titties, bitch! You’ll never remember,” Kei says, sticking out her tongue.

“Argh!” Vy kicks the cells again. “I hate Cancer-line.”

“You’re literally a walking taser and you think _Cancer-line_ is the worst?” Maya asks.

“Shut up!”

Kiyoshi feels very conflicted. On the one hand, he always feels distinctly unhappy when people fight around him. On the other hand, this whole thing has created a very unique glimpse into the Legacy-line that he doesn’t think even Nijimura knows. They’d been assuming this whole time that all twelve lines were a united organization with similar goals, but even taking into account that Kei and Maya are rebels, that is clearly _not_ the case.

“Now, now,” he says, his inherent distaste for fighting overpowering his curiosity, and he deliberately adopts the playful tone that he knows Hyuuga hates, “Let’s all just get along, OK? There’s no point in fighting.”

As expected, everyone just turns to him and yells, “Shut up!” and Kiyoshi feels very pleased with himself.

“ _Is_ she OK?” Kisumi asks, still looking at his (friend? Girlfriend?)

“She met a Rainbow,” Maya explains, and Kisumi winces and murmurs, “Oh, Rui-chan. I’m so sorry.”

Vy scoffs. “OK. Can we all agree that _Rainbows_ are the fucking worst?”

Everyone nods, deciding that this is, apparently, one thing they can all agree upon.

It’s not Kiyoshi’s place to defend Nijimura—he doesn’t know anything about these people, or what it means to them to have their abilities taken away. But as he looks at them—the people in cages and the people on the outside—he does feel like it’s kind of tragic that they can’t get along.

“So, Kisumi-san, is it? You’re Ophiuchus-line too?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Kisumi says, smiling feebly. “They _could_ call the Ophiuchus Elder to verify, if they wanted.”

“Ugh, even if you _are,_ it’s not like we’re the same,” Kei says.

“You’re not?” Kiyoshi asks innocently.

“ _No._ Japanese Ophiuchus are fighting the good fight. _We_ just want to be left alone. Is that really so much to ask?”

“So you’re just cowards,” Vy says contemptuously. “I could at least respect the rebels who _fight_ for their ideals.”

“And that’s what you’re doing,” Kiyoshi says, before Kei could respond. “You’re killing EVOs and hunting Shuuzou because you think that’s the right thing to do.”

Vy shrugs. “Some things shouldn’t exist in this world. Like _that._ ” She jerks her head at Rui, who still seems mostly catatonic.

Kiyoshi thinks on this. The contempt is real, but her nonchalance belies a lack of conviction, like soldiers who “are just following orders” rather than true zealots for the cause. Which isn’t more forgivable, especially not to the dead EVOs who the Hunters killed. But if they were true zealots, there would be no possibility to change their minds.

“Why?” he asks, keeping all traces of judgement out of his voice.

Vy looks at him. So does everyone else but Rui. “Because they’re freaks, that’s why.”

“Alright,” Kiyoshi says. “But why do you have to be the one to hunt them?”

“Because I’m Scorpio-line! That’s what Scorpios _do!_ ” Vy shouts. “We’re hunters. We’ve _always_ been hunters, it’s why we _exist._ There’s a natural order of things, OK? And we’re a part of that order and it’s not our place to be different just because we _feel_ like it.”

The others seem content to watch this exchange play out. Maya and Kei, in particular, have thoughtful expressions as they watch.

Kiyoshi swallows. He thinks it’s probably human nature to try and make connections with other people by relating their problems to something in their own life. And it’s absurd—Kiyoshi could _never_ understand what anyone in the Legacy must be facing. To even suggest that would be a mockery of their experiences.

But. All the same. He moderately relates.

He’s also been very reluctant to be different.

And that’s why he says, “That sounds very lonely.”

Because that’s what he feels. Lonely. He ran away from his feelings because he was too scared to admit he wanted something and now there’s this gaping loneliness clawing at his gut that’s leaving a hollowed out shell where his soul should be.

He’s not expecting Vy to reel back, stricken. She clenches her fists and doesn’t say anything and only then does Kiyoshi think about all the things people have said to the Scorpios. _Your touch is poison. You’re a walking taser._ And it occurs to him that they probably _are_ lonely.

“I’m getting kind of tired of hunting, Vy,” Ivan says unexpectedly.

“Ivan!” Vy shouts.

He shrugs. “They sent us out against a Rainbow by ourselves. Aren’t _you_ tired of being expendable?”

“Stop it, Vanya. That’s Ophiuchus talk.”

Ivan shrugs but he doesn’t respond. Kisumi, who has been watching everything with rapt fascination, offers, “The nice thing about Ophiuchus is you can choose your own rebellion. If you want to fight, then you can fight. If you want to live in peace, you can do that too.”

“Oh, kumbaya,” Vy says, crossing her arms and moving to the corner of her cell to sulk.

“It’s an opportunity,” Kisumi says, only now he’s looking at Rui again. “And in our lives, we have to seize any kind of opportunity we can get. We don’t get offered them very often.”

Kiyoshi likes the idea of _opportunity._ He’s probably wasted a lot of them. And he really hopes he gets another one.

*

Ronald comes in whistling. “Alrighty. I have a video phone call with Archer set up, so that takes care of Chuck. _You_ I’ll ransom,” he says, nodding towards Masaomi, and then he looks at Akane. “You I’ll probably shoot. Nothing personal, sweetheart.”

Masaomi’s face has remained coldly neutral ever since the revelation about Ronald’s “wife.”

Now, he looks at Ronald with a queer expression. “Do you brainwash all your women into sleeping with you? Just curious.”

Ronald laughs. He puts an arm around the woman and hugs her close. “Don’t be so vulgar. I love Honey. I keep you happy, don’t I, Honey?”

“Yes, dear,” Honey says, returning to a blank sort of complacent smiling. “Very happy.”

Masaomi openly gapes. “That’s not what love is!”

“I don’t need a lecture from _you,_ ” Ronald rolls his eyes. “You buy everything _you_ want. We’re not all that different. What’s the point of love if you don’t get what you want?”

Masaomi’s face is still strangely shuttered and unreadable. His voice takes on a bizarre lilt as he says, “I assure you, I have never once got what I wanted when it comes to love.”

Despite the danger of the situation, Mayuzumi can’t help but fixate on _that_ statement and wonder what it means. Ronald only smirks and says, “And that’s why you’re in that chair and I’m not.”

Masaomi looks at him flatly and then abruptly turns to Akane. “OK, you can save us now.”

Akane tilts her head inquiringly. “Are you sure? You said—”

“Yes, yes, I know what I said, rescue us anyway. If you could kill him, I would greatly appreciate that.”

“You’re not getting out of this!” Ronald snaps, raising his gun. But it doesn’t matter.

Akane leaps forward, snapping the chain on the handcuffs like it was made of twine. She moves towards Ronald with the kind of a grace a striking rattlesnake might have, knocking the gun from his hand to the side and tripping Ronald’s feet from under him.

“Stop!” Ronald commands. “Stop moving and return to your chair!”

But Akane doesn’t stop—she just keeps maneuvering Ronald into a restrained position, ignoring his continued efforts to order her to stop.

She’s like a Rainbow, Mayuzumi thinks as she watches with rapt attention. Except—no. She doesn’t have that radiant but invisible aura that Nijimura does when he uses his power. She doesn’t burn like he did.

It’s like she’s immune.

*

“Well, it took me awhile to realize that I wasn’t jealous, exactly. I knew he liked her. And I knew I liked her. I thought maybe I didn’t want to make a move because he was my friend, and then eventually I realized I liked him too and things got complicated.”

It is not something Kiyoshi thought he would _ever_ talk about—much less with strangers he met in a prison cell. But he realized that things were tense between the Legacy-lines, and the only way to keep them from fighting was to keep their attention on him.

So he found a very effective way to keep their attention on him.

“I just don’t think it would _work,_ ” Maya exclaims. “Wouldn’t someone get jealous? Isn’t that inevitable?”

“Well, I don’t know—I don’t think I would be.”

“But you couldn’t get married,” Maya points out.

“Yes, I know it’s not ideal. That _is_ why I fled the country,” Kiyoshi says dryly.

“No, dude, _no,”_ Kisumi says. “You shouldn’t feel that way! You should _absolutely_ confess your feelings! It can work!”

“How?” Maya says.

“It just can,” Kisumi pouts, “If I could be in a threesome, I absolutely would.”

“It’s called a triad. Or a ‘throuple’ if you’re being obnoxious.”

Everyone stops at the sound of the very irritable voice and looks at Vy.

“And it’s perfectly natural,” she says defensively. “My grandparents were in a triad and they were the happiest marriage I’d ever known, OK?”

“I didn’t know that,” Ivan says curiously.

“Well you don’t know everything about me,” Vy snaps. “A happy triad is a million times better than a lot of the toxic monogamous pairings I know, so don’t even tell me one way is _better._ ”

“Thank you,” Kiyoshi says, his voice breaking a little.

“Oh don’t _cry,_ God,” Vy says.

“I see that,” Ivan says. “I know some pretty toxic couples.”

Everyone thinks on this. Kiyoshi wishes Rui was engaging in the conversation. She’s the only one who isn’t—her arms still wrapped around her knees, and her head resting on them. She looks so much like Kise Ryouta it’s uncanny.

“So are you going to ask them out then?” Kei asks, breaking Kiyoshi’s thoughts.

“I have to go back to Japan first,” Kiyoshi points out. “Which means you’d have to let me out of prison.”

“We aren’t going to keep you locked up forever,” Maya reassures.

“Are you going to let _me_ go?” Kisumi asks hopefully.

“We’ll call Ophiuchus first, but probably. Although, I kind of hold a grudge, because of your murderous friend there. Who we’re _not_ letting go.”

Kisumi’s face falls. But even he seems to recognize he can’t argue his way into letting Rui go.

“And what about us?” Vy asks.

“What about you?” Kei returns.

“I want to stay,” Ivan announces.

“Vanya!”

“Vy, I don’t want to do this anymore. Do _you_?”

“Ugh,” Vy says, throwing her hands up in the air. “Fine. Let’s be rebels.”

“Hmm. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy,” Kei says.

“What? Is there a form you have to fill out?” Vy fires back.

“That’s great!” Kiyoshi says enthusiastically. “See, there’s no reason why we can’t all get along.”

“Oh, shut up,” the room choruses, and Kiyoshi grins. They’re a good crowd of people. There’s no reason to think they _can’t_ all get along.

Eventually.

*

Akane leaves Ronald properly tied up and indisposed before she frees Masaomi and Mayuzumi from their bindings.

“There, see Peaches? Nothing to worry about.”

Mayuzumi flicks his eyes out Akane. She is a question he doesn’t think he should ask just yet. “In the future, you can be a little speedier with your rescue missions. This was a complete waste of time.”

“What are you talking about? This was highly informative,” Masaomi says. “I, for one, learned all—”

Gunshots stop him from finishing his sentence. Mayuzumi instinctively dives under the table and it takes a long time for him to comprehend that 1) there are no more shots being fired and 2) he is not dead.

When he gets up again to look around, he sees Honey standing over Ronald’s body, holding his discarded gun.

Then she starts to cry.

*

Mayuzumi’s brain is pretty much stuck on a permanent state of _holy fuck_ but Masaomi and Akane move with remarkable efficiency, as if dead bodies are all part of the daily corporate process. Akane gently disarms Honey and takes her aside to offer comfort and soothing words that Mayuzumi certainly isn’t capable of saying so it’s nice he doesn’t have to.

“Well, this is a bit of an inconvenience, but not surprising,” Masaomi remarks.

“Er. Are you going to call the police?” Mayuzumi asks, and then immediately winces, since he knows that’s a stupid question.

“And let that poor woman experience the trauma of the American justice system? No, don’t be stupid, Peaches. I have guys for this.”

“Body-clearing guys,” Mayuzmi says.

“Every good company has employees for every possible situation,” Masaomi says.

Mayuzumi thinks on this and then announces, “I want a raise.”

Masaomi raises a brow. “Why, Peaches, are you attempting to blackmail me?”           

“What? God, no. I just think if my job description now includes covering up for murder I should be making _a lot_ more money.”

Masaomi cackles and says, “Dear boy, you’re barely worth the money I pay you _now._ Did you even find out what you were supposed to before you were kidnapped?”

“I have everything but three Legacy-lines,” Mayuzmi tosses back. “And I’m sure I can find those when I get back to town.”

“Hm. That’s a 75% success rate. Although you already had four, so I guess technically that’s closer to 63% success rate. Eh. I guess it could have been worse on your first assignment.”

“Shouldn’t you be calling those guys now?”

“Not yet,” Masaomi says with grin. “The man said he had a video call appointment with Archer. It would be rude to let Archer call and have no one answer, don’t you think?”

Akane whips her head up from where she is still consoling Honey. “Masaomi-san, I do not believe that is wise.”

“Nonsense. I’ve always wanted to meet the man. I’m going to go explore this creepy house. Peaches, don’t touch anything, this is a crime scene. Akane-chan, I leave things in your capable hands.” Masaomi saunters off with extraordinary calm for someone who just watched a man die right in front of him.

Christ, _Mayuzumi_ just watched someone die right in front of him. That really hasn’t fully sunk in yet. His eyes flick over to where the body of Ronald Amos still lies, and he has to quickly glance away, feeling nauseous.

“Chihiro-kun, are you… alright?”

He is pretty sure he is not. “I’m fine, Senpai.” And it’s because of Akashi that he can remain calm right now. Playing with Kuroko’s style has really come in handy. It also makes him hate himself a little.

Akane doesn’t leave the woman, who very obviously needs her more. But he can tell she wants to, and Mayuzumi can’t stand that. He thinks if someone tries to comfort him right now he might break down entirely.

He also really doesn’t want to stay in a room with a dead body in it. All the dead animals on the walls are staring down at him in a sinister way and he’s beginning to think they look hungry. He starts moving out the room.

“Chihiro-kun!”

“I won’t touch anything,” he calls back. He needs to get out of this room and away from all the dead things.

He wants out of the _house._ But somehow he ends up traveling further inwards, until he catches the echo of voices and follows the sounds.

“—bother trying to trace the call. You won’t be able to.”

“…Yes, I see that. Your reputation proceeds you, Akashi-san.”

“So does yours.”

“The Legacy has no quarrel with you, Akashi-san. You chose to take in one of those… _things_ , but you have always seemed like a sensible man.”

Masaomi laughs and Mayuzumi feels a little like doing the same—no one who has _met_ Masaomi would ever call him “sensible.” Mayuzumi peers around the corner and sees the man on the screen and does a doubletake. At first he assumes it’s Kasamatsu Youji—but no, the man is much older than the popular JSDF Sergeant. Mayuzumi ducks back to the corner, not wanting to draw attention to either man. He’d _known_ Yamazaki Kenji was Sergeant Kasamatsu’s brother, but the resemblance is uncanny.

“This is not a war you want to wage,” Archer says, who perhaps does not like being laughed at.

This seems to sober Masaomi who says, “Oh, Yamazaki-san. You have no idea what wars I wage.”

There’s a measured pause and Mayuzumi wishes he could see the two men.

“Akashi Masaomi,” Archer says musingly. “I was somewhat under the impression that we were in your debt for covering up the incident in Iwatobi, but then I heard you came with my little brother. Just what is your relationship with Youji?”

“Hm,” Masaomi says. “No.”

“No?”

“No, there’s no point in talking about Youji with you. Let’s talk about Kasamatsu Hinami.”

“The wife?” Mayuzumi can tell from his incredulous sneer that Archer wasn’t expecting this. Masaomi is very good at bringing up the topics you weren’t expecting. “That woman sullied the Yamazaki line with her blood. She was a vulgar, unnatural female.”

“Kasamatsu Hinami,” Masaomi says, his voice strange, “Was a good person. Don’t get me wrong, I detest good people. We never got along. Someone once told me that in life, even though it’s incredibly rare, sometimes you meet heroes, and sometimes you meet dragons. Hinami was a hero. That shining knight you usually only get in fiction.

“Which is why I always found it so fascinating that she hated _you_ so much. I really think she would have killed you, had she been a different kind of person.”

“Like she could have,” Kenji says contemptuously.

“Oh, I don’t know. She broke your nose, didn’t she? And I see it never quite healed right. Which is very intriguing, considering Sagittarius-line supposedly have accelerated healing, don’t you think? It’s almost like you can’t heal broken bones too well.”

There is a very long silence, long enough for Mayuzumi to think through the implications. He wonders if it was really wise to let the enemy know you knew a potential weakness. But then, Masaomi never followed the set rules.

“You do not want me as an enemy, Akashi,” Archer says.

“Oh, Kenji. Can I call you Kenji? You’re not listening to me. You made Kasamatsu Hinami angry. You earned _her_ contempt. She never killed you because she was a hero, and that’s not what heroes do.

“But I am not a hero. I am not your enemy, Kenji. I’m the dragon.”

Mayuzumi is not sure how he came to a witness a confrontation straight out of the comic books, but he’s beginning to think that it’s really a bad idea for him to be here. Things never go too well for eavesdroppers in comic books.

So he quietly leaves.

*

He finds and Akane and Honey out on the porch. Honey is curled up on some sort of lawn chair, fast asleep.

Akane follows his gaze and says, “She has had a very stressful couple of months. I think it has caught up with her.”

Mayuzumi’s stomach churns again at the thought of _months._ “What’s going to happen to her?”

“Masaomi-san will ensure that she is well-taken care of with the best possible recovery resources available.”

Mayuzumi wonders if she’ll end up in SAPRRCOE. They know about trauma recovery over there.

“Is Masaomi in love with Kasamatsu Youji?”

The question just blurts out of him, and he’s not sure why he even asks it until he after he says it. It hadn’t occurred to him while listening to the conversation but slowly he processes how Masaomi _didn’t_ talk about Youji, about all the things Masaomi _hadn’t_ said in that conversation, and suddenly a lot of the pieces fall together.

Akane doesn’t say anything, and nothing shows on her face. When she does speak she says, “Perhaps it would be best if you were reassigned to one of the American facilities for awhile, Chihiro-kun.”

“What?” Mayuzumi exclaims. “Hell no, I want to go back to Japan.”

“I think you would be well suited for the Center, Chihiro-kun. Those kids need someone like you. And we’ll need an Interim Liaison with Providence and Ophiuchus which, I think everyone will agree, you are best suited for the position. This job will, naturally, come with a significant raise.”

“I’m not sure raises are really much of a motivator anymore,” Mayuzumi says.

“Do you dislike the idea?”

Mayuzumi stops himself before giving the automatic confirmation and thinks about it. He actually _doesn’t_ dislike the idea. His brief glimpse of SAPRRCOE offered a picture of a career he’d probably take a lot of pride in. The people he met there—from the capable employees like Jamie, Vincent and Ryder to the children they were trying so hard to save, Charlie, Zane, Mari and Marie—were all the kind of people that Mayuzumi thinks he could work with and be proud of what he was doing. And he thinks about those girls in New Mexico and how that felt like unfinished business. Maybe he couldn’t make any kind of real difference to any of the children who survived Teiko, but he there are things that even ordinary people like him can do, and that’s what SAPRRCOE represents. And, well. He doesn’t _hate_ the idea of continuing to work with Nijimura.

“No, I suppose not,” he admits.

“Good,” Akane says. And she doesn’t look at him when she says, “Masaomi-san does not like it when people know his vulnerable points. I do not think he would actually hurt you, but it might be best if you were out of sight for awhile.”

Mayuzumi blinks. He opens his mouth and then shuts it. Eavesdroppers _really_ don’t do well in comics. He’s beginning to think reassignment to America is an _excellent_ idea.

He side eyes his superior and debates asking. But then he figures, what the hell, he already knows too much.

“You took Ronald down even though he used his abilities on you,” he says casually. “Are you an immune human?”      

Akane looks at him and says, “No. I am not.”

“You’re not immune?”

She does something he’s never seen him do before: she smiles. She pats him on the cheek, and then goes indoors, presumably to look for Masaomi.

She doesn’t say anything, but somehow Mayuzumi hears her loud and clear.

_I’m not human._

Yeah. It’s probably a good idea to stay out of Japan for awhile.

*

He has just long enough to wonder how he’s supposed to get out of here before he rounds a corner and runs into Nijimura.

“What are you doing here?” Mayuzumi says, surprised but glad to see him.

“Er. I’m here to rescue you,” Nijimura says, taken aback, but then settling into amusement. “Although, clearly I shouldn’t have worried. You’re apparently capable of rescuing yourself.”

“You give me too much credit, this damsel has already been rescued.”

“Oh?”

“By my boss,” Mayuzumi says.

“Akashi Masaomi is _here_?”

“Yes, but now this damsel needs a ride back to town, so you came just in time.”

“Ah well. If I can’t be a knight in shining armor, I’ll settle for chauffeur.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mayuzumi says, clapping him on the back. “Infinitely more useful than knight in shining armor, I always thought.”

Nijimura grins but it fades away quickly and he hesitates. Then he swallows and says, “I’m really glad you’re OK, Chihiro. If anything happened to you—”

“Oh, don’t get sappy on me,” Mayuzumi says, heading to the car. “It’s disgusting.”

“Ha. Fine. Let’s go make sure they didn’t throw Teppei in prison.”

*

“ _They put you in prison?”_ Nijimura shouts and Mayuzumi smirks because it’s fun to watch Nijimura shouting.

There is a bit of a kerfuffle when they get back to town, because apparently a Yellow Six has escaped. (Rui, Mayuzumi guesses. She’d been mentioned in Masaomi’s files from the Iwatobi debacle. He makes a note to update the files).

“It was really more of a holding cell, and it was quite a pleasant time,” Kiyoshi says. And then he winces. “Up until Rui escaped, that is.”

“And what are _they_ doing here?” Nijimura gestures to Vy and Ivan; Mayuzumi has to admit, he’s been wondering that himself.

“Bite me, freak,” Vy says.

“Only in your kinkiest fantasies, lady,” Nijimura shoots back.

“Now, now,” Kiyoshi says. “We’re all on the same side.”

“Since _when?_ ” Nijimura gapes.

“About thirty minutes ago,” Ivan says. “Right, Vy?”

The woman rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything.

“Although I’m seriously regretting letting you out,” Kei says darkly, “Since the Yellow Six got away.”

“She won’t come back here,” Kisumi says sadly. “She was just looking for a way to get on Archer’s good side again.”

“That isn’t reassuring since she knows where we are! And now Archer will know!” Kei says.

“He won’t talk to her,” Kisumi says, still sounding sad. “She has nowhere to go.”

“And you?” Kiyoshi asks.

Kisumi shrugs. “I’m no good as a double agent anymore, so I guess I’ll go back to Iwatobi. What about you, Teppei?”

“Yeah,” Kiyoshi says. “It’s probably time for me to go back to Japan too.”

This surprises both Mayuzumi and Nijimura.

“Wow. Prison has changed you,” Nijimura remarks.

“For the better, I think,” Kiyoshi says, and his gaze flicks to Mayuzumi. “I decided to stop running.”

And Mayuzumi is surprised by how happy that makes him. Not that he would ever say that. But still. He makes a note to keep in contact with Kuroko and find out if Seirin a happy polyamorous triangle of power in its future.

“Great. Beautiful. In the meantime, Archer is still a threat to everyone in this town,” Kei says.

“Sounds like you need an ally,” Mayuzumi says smoothly. “Can I interest you in a partnership with Akashi Industries?”

The Legacy-line eye him warily and Mayuzumi only smiles.

Because what the hell. He _is_ good at this job. So he might as well do it right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the previous chapters, this chapter has some OCs kindly submitted to me by other people. In order of appearance they are:
> 
> Maya Kalani was created by [desikauwa](http://desikauwa.co.vu/)
> 
> Kei was created by [koori_icy](https://koori-icy.tumblr.com/) (ao3 user  
> [ice_flow](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ice_flow/pseuds/ice_flow)). Kei made her first uncredited appearance in chapter four!
> 
> Vy DeMier was created by [mysenpaiisdead](http://mysenpaiisdead.tumblr.com/) (ao3 user [TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath/pseuds/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath)
> 
> Ivan “Vanya” Vasil’yevich Simonov was created by [nofriggingclue.tumblr.com](nofriggingclue.tumblr.com)
> 
> Other OCs, like the evil ones, were created by me =D
> 
> Thanks for reading, friends!


	10. Somewhere Over the Rainbow (Bluebirds Fly)

It had actually been rather impressive to watch Mayuzumi maneuver his way into getting everything he wanted. In the end, Shuuzou got what _he_ wanted, and had to do very little to obtain any of it.

In fact, he felt a little bad about how little he had to do with how smoothly it all went. Whatever happened while Kiyoshi was in the holding cell had left most of the Legacy-line with a fair amount of goodwill. And they seemed willing to talk with Mayuzumi. Even though the whole reason Shuuzou brought the two of them was precisely for this outcome, he still ends up feeling at a loss for how little he did to make the whole thing happen.

He’s not complaining too much, though. Everyone came out of it unharmed. Kiyoshi is going back to Japan, and even though Shuuzou will miss him, he’s glad for his friend.

“I’m in love with both of them,” Kiyoshi had explained; and while the explanation was unexpected it hadn’t exactly been a surprise. Being in love with two people at the same time wasn’t something that would have bothered Shuuzou, personally, but it was exactly the kind of thing that would have made someone like Kiyoshi flee the country. Kiyoshi, who believes that if anyone should suffer it should be him, and never dares to want anything that might make him happy.

“Do you know what you’re going to do?” Shuuzou asked.

Kiyoshi shook his head. “No. Not a clue. But whatever I’m going to do, I can’t do it across the world.”

“That’s the spirit,” Shuuzou said.

“Thanks for everything, Shuuzou,” Kiyoshi said. And Shuuzou felt privately that he did very little and should be the one thanking Kiyoshi. But he would have a hard time convincing Kiyoshi of that, so he accepted the thanks graciously.

So Kiyoshi is going back to Japan, and Mayuzumi is staying in America, at least for a little while. And while Shuuzou is sorry about the one friend, he’s very, very happy about the other.

And now he’s back in Providence, doing his job, which isn’t always pleasant, but it’s a job that needs to get done.

There’s a private ward in Providence that Shuuzou hasn’t told Mayuzumi about just yet, and he feels guilty about that. It’s where they keep the EVOs that Rex can’t cure. And while Providence makes it as comfortable as they can for those lost souls, it’s still a row of cages with scientists studying them, and it reminds Shuuzou a little too much of Teiko for comfort. He does not come down here often.

Of course, maybe that’s because Caesar Salazar is here, studying the EVOs and trying to find a cure for them. _That_ hadn’t been a pleasant reunion. Shuuzou had punched Caesar in the face when he reappeared (and he wasn’t the last person who had that reaction to Rex’s older brother).

Later, Caesar had tried to explain, “I was only interested in the science. I didn’t know what they were doing to the kids.”

“They weren’t subtle, Caesar. You _should_ have known what they were doing,” Shuuzou had said.

But Caesar Salazar was exactly the kind of absent-minded scientist who wouldn’t realize children were dying all around him. Shuuzou doesn’t _like_ working with a former Teiko scientist, but he’s come to terms with it. Still, that’s not something he could explain to Generation Miracle.

So no, he doesn’t come to this section often. But seeing the Yellow Six and knowing she is still out there prompts him to venture down.

“If you wanted to torture us, there are other, preferable ways.”

“I’m not trying to torture you, Nash. Just thought I’d say hello.”

Nash Gold Jr. snorts. Jason Silver is on the other side, lying on his bed and pretending he’s asleep. Shuuzou knows he’s not sleeping—they never sleep when he’s in the room.

“Better torture than ever see you,” Nash says. “Tell me, Shuuzou, are you still pretending you’re a good person?”

Shuuzou’s not sure why he bothered coming here. “I never claimed to be a good person, Nash. I’m just a better one than you.”

Nash laughs. “Keep telling yourself that, Rainbow.”

There wasn’t a point in coming here. Nash Gold and Jason Silver are just two more monsters they haven’t figured out how to cure yet. So he turns and leaves and tries not to think about the kind of person he is.

*

Upstairs, Caesar Salazar is looking in a microscope. “Rex was looking for your earlier,” Shuuzou remarks.

“Ah,” Caesar says. “Tell him I’ll be here. Agent Six and Dr. Holiday thought I shouldn’t be around while your friends were visiting you.”

“Good call,” Shuuzou remarks dryly. “He would kill you. No doubt about that.”

“Hm. Do you think it would help if I apologized?”

“It never helped me. And he’s a _lot_ more unforgiving,” Shuuzou says, heading out.

He rounds a corner to catch the icy, exasperated voice of Himuro Ryuichiro saying, “—run out of _human_ men?”

“Maybe, Father, but apparently there’s a whole array of nonhuman men I could have been dating. Were you ever going to tell me you worked for a human experimentation facility?”

“I don’t work _for_ them, they’re corporate partners. And honestly, Tatsuya, if this is what you’re doing in Japan, maybe it’s time you came home.”

“Hey, hey, Murochin, is this your dad?”

Both father and son stop to stare at Murasakibara, who is standing in a lazy sort of way and eyeing Himuro’s father. “He’s so tiny.”

The threat isn’t _exactly_ there. But it does make Ryuichiro stop short and then sigh. “I disapprove, Tatsuya.”

“And I don’t care, Father,” Himuro says. “Hello, Shuu.”

“Don’t let me get in the way of this touching family reunion,” Shuuzou says.

“It was bad enough when you were dating _him_ ,” Ryuichiro says, gesturing to Nijimura and then leaving.

“There was no dating!” Shuuzou yelps when Murasakibara turns his attention towards him, “We were never dating!” He would _almost_ think Ryuichiro did that on purpose…

“Not for lack of trying,” Himuro says happily. “I offered to have sex with Shuu many times.”

“Why are you like this?” Shuuzou asks. Murasakibara is big and strong enough to be an imposing threat even _without_ his superpowers.

“Hmph,” Murasakibara says. “I’m bored, Murochin. America is boring.”

“We’ll go to more candy shops later,” Himuro promises. “And I know of a donut store that has over 180 kinds of donuts.”

Murasakibara nods like this is an acceptable offering and ambles away. Himuro eyes Shuuzou in that unreadable way of his. “And _you_ certainly neglected to tell me you knew my father.”

“Sorry,” Shuuzou says, not particularly apologetically. “I’m surprised you didn’t make the connection after you figured out what I was.” Young Himuro had only been in the general area of Providence because of his father’s business. Himuro just shrugs, as if to say he could hardly be blamed for not figuring everything out.

“Hey, Tatsuya, how _did_ you figure out I was a Rainbow? The last name alone really shouldn’t have been enough.”

It was something he’d been wondering ever since that phone call for help. Himuro said, “989,” and Shuuzou had stupidly replied, “You always did like them big,” forgetting for a second there was no way for him to know which Miracle was 989, because their designations were never made public.

And Himuro had just said, “Hey, Shuu—I have a strange question to ask you…are you a Rainbow?”

It was such an unexpected question so masterfully phrased to catch him off guard that all he could do was laugh and say, “How’d you figure that one out?” Because even if he had tried to deny it, he would have been caught just by the fact that he knew enough to deny it. Had he been thinking, he would have feigned ignorance, but Himuro was very good about catching him off guard.

Himuro had never explained _how,_ he’d only moved on to explain why they needed his help.

“Hmm. I’m not exactly sure I can explain it,” Himuro confesses now. “There were always little things that were just slightly off—childhood references you didn’t catch, or little customs you didn’t know.”

“I _was_ a foreigner in America,” Shuuzou points out.

“So was _I._ Which is probably why I was the only one who noticed. And anyway, once they explained about Rainbows it just made sense. There was always something very otherworldly about you, Shuu.”

Shuuzou shakes his head because _that_ seemed like an absurd statement coming from Himuro Tatsuya, who was too pretty and too unreadable to be a normal high school boy and yet still he was. Bue he lets it go.

“And,” Himuro tilts his head, looking at him, “Sometimes you had this… sadness about you. Atsushi and the rest—they had that too.”

“Hm,” Nijimura says. Yes, that’s probably true. But he wants to push past that. “Well, try not to irritate your father too much, we need his money.”

“I can’t promise that,” Himuro says serenely.

*

Shuuzou wants to find Mayuzumi but somehow ends up finding Akashi Masaomi needling Himuro Ryuichiro and Agent Six. Both the business man and the former mercenary are looking like they’re contemplating the merits of murdering the tycoon.

“Well, this is certainly a quaint place you boys have,” Masaomi says blithely. “A little run down, but you can hardly help that on a budget. Ah! Just the Rainbow I wanted to see.”

Shuuzou winces because he can’t help but empathize with Six and Ryuichiro in this situation—Masaomi is really not someone you want to notice you. He doesn’t even take it personally when both Agent Six and Ryuichiro take this opportunity to flee. He would have done the same in their position.

“Hello, Rainbow,” Masaomi says.

“Hello, Megalomaniac,” Nijimura say.

“What kind of person runs from one human experimentation facility and willingly joins another?”

“Providence works with nanotechnology,” Shuuzou says promptly.

“Yeah, it’s cute,” Masaomi says, with a condescending smile that gets under Shuuzou’s skin.

“Is there a reason why you’re here?” Shuuzou asks.

“To talk to you,” Masaomi says promptly. “And also to check on Peaches. He’s an important asset of Akashi Industries, and I have to make sure he’s settling in.”

Shuuzou has gathered that “Peaches” is Mayuzumi, and he twitches slightly at the pet name. He’s not sure why it bothers him, but it does.

Alright, he also doesn’t quite trust this man when it comes to Mayuzumi. Mayuzumi had said, “Apparently, I need to stick around America for awhile. There’s a good chance Masaomi might decide I’m better off dead, and I like living.”

He hadn’t said it in a nervous sort of way—in fact he seemed remarkably unbothered by the prospect. And yet Shuuzou hadn’t gotten the impression that Mayuzumi was joking and didn’t like the idea of Masaomi anywhere near Mayuzumi because of that.

“What do you want with Chihiro?” Nijimura asks, putting emphasis on the name.

Masaomi looks at him, slightly amused. “Why, nothing. I hold Peaches in the highest regard.”

Shuuzou debated leaving it alone, but then figured that Akashi Masaomi was not someone where being subtle has any merit. “I think you’re a threat to most of the people you know, Akashi-san. You didn’t even know him for long before you sent him on a life-threatening mission.”

“Which he did exceedingly well on, all things considered,” Masaomi returns. “He completed his mission to my full satisfaction. I have a lot of high expectations for that guy.”

“Don’t,” Shuuzou says. “Leave him out of your plans.”

Masaomi raises a brow. “What, Nijimura-kun. Are you trying to get into his pants? Because I am fairly certain you are wasting your time. I have on pretty good authority Peaches only wants himself in his pants.”

“Thank you for that assessment,” Shuuzou says dryly, and decides to ignore the question entirely. “He’s my friend. And I think you destroy people.”

Masaomi grins, not at all phased by this description of his character. “Perhaps. But. I like tools, Nijimura-kun. And Peaches is a very useful tool.”

There is a very particular gleam in Masaomi’s eyes, and Shuuzou suppresses the urge to sigh. He knew Masaomi wanted something ever since this conversation began. That was why he made it clear from the start there was something he wanted from Masaomi in return. Now it’s just a matter of seeing how well he can make a deal with the devil.  “What do you want?”

Masaomi grins, most likely enjoying the bargaining. “I have two questions for you. Well, really only one question, but it comes in two parts.”

“Go on,” Shuuzou says warily.

Masaomi sobers, as if it’s no longer fun anymore, and Shuuzou tenses because of that. There’s something about Masaomi’s seriousness that makes the questions seem dangerous.

“I want you to tell me everything you know about two Teiko missions.”

Shuuzou’s brows raise—he can’t help it, that’s not what he was expecting Masaomi to ask about. “I can’t guarantee I’ll know anything about them. King comparatively went on very few missions. But I’m happy to tell you everything I know.” _For a price,_ remains unsaid, but understood. Masaomi nods, indicating that he knows that bargain is being made.

“I need you to tell me everything you know about a mission that took place nine years ago in Beirut,” Masaomi’s stare pins him down. “And a mission that took place eleven years ago in Cairo.”

Shuuzou frowns. The air around them is heavy and dangerous. He doesn’t understand what’s happening but he knows instinctively that he has to tread lightly. “Beirut was a Jabberwocky mission that went wrong. I can tell you what I know, but it’s really not much. And I’m not sure why you’re asking _me_ about Cairo.”

“What do you mean?” Masaomi asks.

Shuuzou’s heart beats faster, feeling like he’s probably making a mistake or perhaps committing some betrayal.  “Cairo was a Miracle mission. Your son would know more about Cairo than I would.”

It’s impossible to tell what Masaomi is thinking. “How about you tell me everything you know about both of them anyway?”

Shuuzou hesitates for just a second, but then he does.

*

Mayuzumi looks down at his notebook and feels immensely proud of himself.

_Sagittarius – soldiers; enhanced speed, strength; resistant to pain?_

_Capricorn – fish people. Breathe underwater; enhance speed & strength underwater_

_Libra – manipulation of emotions_

_Gemini – twins; telepathic bond with each other_

_Pisces – manipulation of energy_

_Taurus – increases/decreases density._

_Scorpio – intense pain with touch (hurts like a bitch!!)_

_Cancer – truth compulsion and memory erasure_

_Aries – hypnosis_

_Virgo – telekinetic_

_Aquarius – hydrokinetic_

_Leo – influence velocity_

And _sure,_  he didn’t exactly do a lot of subtle interrogations to get the last of this information, but he _had_ brokered the negotiations, and really, he felt very successful with how it all went down.

“You know, no one uses notebooks anymore. It’s kind of lame,” Nijimura remarks, coming up from behind him.

“I know,” Mayuzumi says, closing the notebook and tucking it away. “That’s why I use them. Notebooks can’t be hacked.”

“Fair enough,” Nijimura allows.

Mayuzumi eyes him. “What’s with you? You seem perturbed.”

Nijimura glances up, surprised, but then he smiles slowly. “Not a lot of people could have figured that out.”

Mayuzumi scowls, because he really doesn’t like the way Nijimura keeps acting like he’s done something extraordinary, “You’re hedging, and you think I won’t notice if you pretend I’m special.”

“You _are_ special,” Nijimura says fondly. “And I’m not hedging. I am perturbed. I was talking to your boss.”

“Ah. Enough said on that.”

“Oh?”

“Masaomi tends to bring out that reaction in most people he talks to.”

“I’ll bet he does,” Nijimura says. He sighs, and Mayuzumi can watch him rearrange his thoughts, pushing whatever discussion he had with Masaomi out of his mind. Then he smiles at Mayuzumi, bright and genuine. “I’m really glad you’re sticking around for awhile, Chihiro.”

Mayuzumi frowns. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pretending to flirt. It’s annoying.”

Nijimura laughs, a shaky sort of sound. “Oh man. I’ve clearly been doing this wrong. I’m not pretending. I’ve been flirting with you since we met. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?”

“Er,” Mayuzumi says, not expecting this turn in their conversation. “I generally don’t.” He frowns and Nijimura does this little arch with his eyebrows that is oddly suggestive.

“I told you I’m asexual,” Mayuzumi says, still thinking that maybe Nijimura is playing some sort of game. But since he has no idea what the game is he has to take him at his word and give his genuine response.

“Yeah, so am I. I’m not proposing a quickie in the supply closet, I’m trying to say I’d like to date you.”

“What?” Mayuzumi says, his brain failing.

“Er. Which part of that confused you?” Nijimura asks, frowning slightly.

“You’re not asexual.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I am?” Nijimura says, still looking at him quizzically. “I told you that.”

“ _When_?”

“When I told you about the Rainbows? We were all asexual.”

“You didn’t say that!” Mayuzumi says indignantly. But he decides that’s not exactly the point. “So why are you asking _me_ out?”

“Well, see, that’s why it’s important to make the distinction between asexual and aromantic—” at Mayuzumi’s glare he hastens to say. “Although I admit my timing was bad when I asked the question. Do you really not want to date anyone ever?”

“Historically speaking, no,” Mayuzumi says, staring at Nijimura and suddenly realizing that they’re not playing a game but he had no idea what he’s supposed to do. “I’m not ever going to have sex with you.”

“Not asking you to,” Nijimura says, still sounding faintly amused. “I don’t mind sex if that’s what my partner wants, but if it’s not, I’m perfectly content without it.”

“Then what’s even the point?” Mayuzumi exclaims. “We’re friends, how would dating be any different?”

“I’d get to call you my boyfriend and we’d occasionally go on dates and cuddle—” Nijimura laughs, but it’s kind of a harsh sound, and he looks away, “Wow, OK, _that_ face certainly says a lot. Ouch.”

Mayuzumi’s not sure what kind of face he’s making but he can probably guess. “It’s not—something I’ve ever thought about.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Nijimura says softly. “I’ll stop asking if you really hate the idea. I just really like you, Chihiro, and I wanted you to know that.”

Mayuzumi stops himself from asking _Why?_ because he’s terrified that if he asks that question Nijimura might actually _tell_ him and that would be endlessly embarrassing.

It’s not that he’s never been asked out before. But people usually back off after they find out sex isn’t an option. And romance—the cuddling, going on dates thing—that’s not something Mayuzumi has _ever_ wanted. It’s very hard for him to even imagine a future in which that is something he _could_ want. But. No one had ever offered to meet him on his terms before, and he finds it a little off-putting. So much so that (he’s surprised to discover) he doesn’t quite want to give the automatic refusal that usually comes so easily when he’s in this position.

“We only met, like, two weeks ago,” Mayuzumi points out.

“I know,” Nijimura says, grinning again. “I fell pretty hard.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Mayuzumi says, covering his face, because that is probably the most  embarrassing thing anyone has ever said to him. “I’m not—I’m not saying _no,_ exactly. I’m going to be in America for awhile and I’ll still be—working with you. But two week is ridiculous, I barely know you. I’m not even sure I like you all that much. Although I don’t hate you, and that does make you different than 90% of the other people I meet. So. If you’re still interested, ask me again in a year or something, and we’ll see if we can negotiate terms then.”

Nijimura laughs. “You gushy romantic, you. That’s the sexiest proposal I’ve ever heard, Mr. Moneybags.”

“Stop that.”

“No, no, this is cool, I’m going to negotiate the hell out of you, it’s going to be amazing.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“There might even be notarized contracts and spreadsheets involved.”

“I do love a properly notarized contract,” Mayuzumi says, finally giving in. “I’m going to expect some really fancy spreadsheets, Shuuzou.”

Nijimura’s eyes widen and then he smiles, once again a genuine expression of delight. “I look forward to it, Chihiro.”

Mayuzumi snorts, not quite believing it. A lot could happen in a year, and all things considered Nijimura will probably lose interest.

But in the meantime, Mayuzumi still has a job to do. And he’s really good at it.

*

It’s another three weeks before Shuuzou gets to Veracruz.

There’d been a _lot_ of loose ends, and the higher ups at Providence were not keen on the idea of him disappearing once again to parts unknown.

And truthfully, he has no idea what he’s doing here. Except Riku has parts of a Gold in her. And sometimes he fancies he even knows _which_ Gold, but it would be impossible to know for sure without seeing some of Teiko’s files. And maybe he doesn’t want to know for sure; it’s much nicer being able to pretend that Tsukasa lived on inside of her.

But at any rate, his life changed once because of a Gold’s prophecy, and he feels like regardless, Riku said _you might find something there_ and that’s something he’s taking very seriously.

And. He has a theory. A wild, impossible, painful theory. But he won’t rest until he knows. So he’s in Veracruz, and he has no idea what he’s supposed to find or how to look for it, even if he did. So he just wanders around, feeling a little foolish.

A small child runs into him, nearly knocking him over. “Oomph,” he says, catching her instinctively.

“Sorry, mister!” she says quickly in Spanish.     

“Ana is so clumsy,” a boy teases.

“Shut up!” she says, stamping her foot and chasing after him as he laughs.

Shuuzou stares at them, wondering if perhaps he’s hallucinating. She has purple hair, and purple eyes. The boy she chases has magenta hair and eyes. And that shouldn’t mean anything, not really. Color contacts and hair dye exists.

“Are you lost, Nii-san?” someone says in Japanese, and he’s not thinking about how odd that is to hear in Mexico, he just replies in the same language, “No, I’m not, I’m—”

He stops when he sees his questioner. His throat is suddenly very dry. He licks his lips for moisture, and feels like he’s just been hit over the head with a mullet. “104?”

“Kazusa,” she says, grinning. “Over there is Azusa and Kazuto.” She points to where a man and woman with similar faces to her stand. “We’ve been waiting a long time for you, Shuuzou.”

“Not that we thought you’d come,” Kazuto says, his voice low.

“But we thought you might, at some point. Nee-san thought you might,” Azusa says. 103 was the oldest of the triplets, so “Nee-san” had to be someone else…

He swallows. “Do you have a place nearby?”

“Oh yes,” Kazusa says. “Follow us, Nii-san.”

*

He had prepared himself for the sight of 62, now a dignified young woman with short hair in a sunhat.

He’s not expecting the children.

The triplets leave them alone. Shuuzou looks around the villa and there’s children and dark haired young adults everywhere. Children with yellow hair, red, green, blue, pink, white, light blue—even orange haired children playing in the sky, and silver and gold and grey and magenta; all the colors of Teiko, laughing and playing.

“I don’t understand,” Shuuzou says. It’s the first thing he says to 62 after almost nine years, thinking he was never going to see her or any of the other Rainbows again. Thinking they were dead.

“You are the one who told us what Miracle would do,” 62 say.

He looks down at her arm and sees a scar there that matches the one he hides under his armband. They must all have them, he realizes.

“That I did,” he says, his throat still tight and painful. “The children?”

62 doesn’t look at him. She gazes out at the playing children, “We do not disobey. So they did not expect disobedience. We began smuggling out children right after you left. First, the ones slated to be scrapped. Then the ones made in batches, when no one would suspect a few missing. We found them homes in the beginning.

“Then when Teiko started to burn we cut out our trackers, each grabbed whatever children we could carry, and then we ran.

“We could not save them all. There were still so many dead. So many.

But we saved what we could.”

He feels like he’s in some kind of dissociative state. He can hear the shouts and laughter of the children, he can hear people talking around them, but it’s like he’s somewhere else other than his body right now. It is too much for him to process. He’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to process this information. _This is what Tsukasa saw. This is the future King died to protect._

“ _Why?_ ” his voice finally cracks.

“They deserved to live,” 62 says, finally looking back at him.

“But—” he still has no idea what he’s trying to ask, what he’s even trying to say. He doesn’t even know what he’s feeling. “But why did _you_ save them?”

“That is a strange thing for you to ask, Shuuzou. It is because of you.”

He never did anything so great. He could not have inspired this.

“We were their nightmares,” 62 says. Her voice is just as toneless as it always was. But he feels a tremendous amount of gentleness coming from her. “We were their weakness, their punishment, their monsters; we were everything they were taught to fear.

“But you, Shuuzou. They did not fear you. King loved you. Even Miracle respected you. And it made us want to be something else for them.”

“Doesn’t it hurt?” Nijimura says. Because he feels lightheaded, and it’s not _all_ because of the revelations he’s experiencing. He hasn’t been around this many Projects since he helped Miracle take out Jabberwocky, and it’s making him a little dizzy.

“Why should it? We are not here to restrain them.”

He’d lived in peace with other Projects, once.

“This cannot be a complete surprise to you.”

He laughs almost to the point of hysterics. “I assure you, I am _very_ surprised. This is—beyond what I was capable of imagining.”

“But you knew about us,” 62 says.

He shakes his head. “A part of me always wondered if you made it out. And the Legacy-line kept talking about how horrible the Rainbows were, and how we all needed to die, and I thought they couldn’t mean _just_ me…”

“It has been helpful to have you out there to draw attention away from us,” 62 allows. “But Shuuzou, you have a home here, should you wish it.”

Shuuzou struggles to regain his composure. “Thank you,” he says, his voice thick. “I mean it. But I have a home.”

She nods, like she expected that. “This is a secret that must be protected at all cost, Shuuzou.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I swear it.” He wonders if he should mention Miracle but he disregards it. They must not want Miracle to know, and he doesn’t blame them. In some ways, Miracle is still too much of Teiko.

“I swear by my Generation, I’ll protect this secret.” It was the strongest promise he knew.

“Your word is good enough for me, Shuuzou.”

“I—” he still feels a little lost. “I don’t know your name.”

She smiles then, just the barest curve of her lips. “Anri. Nijimura Anri. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t,” he says. “I’m honored.”

She was the closest thing he had to an older sister. The closest thing he had left to family.

Suddenly, it’s all a little too much for him. He starts crying, and she holds out her arms, and he sinks into her shoulder, because he’s traveled so very far and been so alone ever since King died.

And now he has a family again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Azusa, Kazusa, and Kazuto were submitted by someone using the name sumesume, but I do not believe that is connected to the tumblr I found by the same name? So it seemed like an anonymous submission, which I didn't know you could do, but friend, if you're reading this, please let me know how best to credit you for their appearance =)
> 
> Thank you *everyone* who read this story! Your kudos, comments, and silent support means a lot to me! Thank you so much!!

**Author's Note:**

> These are going to be some long notes, so bear with me, sorry friends! This story was a long time in the making and the structure of it is kind of weird. It includes a random crossover with the American cartoon Generator Rex but it is an incredibly minor crossover and absolutely no knowledge of Generator Rex is necessary for the reading of this fic. I mostly did it for fun, and also because it was kind of convenient to have a ready-made facility.  
>   
> This story also includes a lot of original characters that were not created by me. Awhile back on tumblr I decided that anyone who reads this story is most likely only doing so because they really enjoy Designation: Miracle, and if that was the case, I wanted to do something nice for those people who enjoy this series, so I created [this offer](https://umisabaku.tumblr.com/post/158179120999/designation-miracle-fic-offer) here for people to submit their own original character that would appear in this story. I will credit those characters as they appear in each chapter. I couldn't always include everything that was submitted and sometimes those roles are very minor, but it was very much my honor to use the characters that other people created and wanted to see in this universe.  
>   
> In the first chapter, Vincent Gallagher belongs to [mist-me](https://mist-me.tumblr.com/) and Ryder Kade Stevens belongs to [i-dont-understand-anything-ever](https://i-dont-understand-anything-ever.tumblr.com/).  
>   
> I have once again chosen not to use archive warnings because the situation is kind of complicated. This story is, in my opinion, far lighter than some of the other stories that have appeared in this series and the kind of violence that does appear is very standard for the violence that has occurred in this series thus far. *However* there are some things that are referenced/implied that happen to original minor characters that might be potentially triggering for some people. I created a page [here on tumblr](https://umisabaku.tumblr.com/post/163025165364/ok-so-i-am-about-to-post-the-nijimura-story-but) to discuss what those things are in case anyone is concerned and wants to be warned, but I didn't want to include spoilers here.  
>   
> Also, not to spoil anything, but, while this story is really technically a Gen fic, there's some relationship woes that occur within this story that I hope I have conveyed in a respectful way, but are also discussed on that page in the link above in case anyone wants to check those out beforehand.  
>   
> Oh my god, sorry for these massively long end notes.  
>   
> As always, thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos are seriously the reason why I keep writing more stories, so thank you so much! And thank you to all the silent readers, I love you too!! =D Feel free to find me [on tumblr](https://umisabaku.tumblr.com) for endless anime reblogs and writing and more Designation: Miracle fun.


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